Hunted
by dreamsingreen
Summary: Post-Avengers. Loki's punishment in Asgard is both surprising and deeply unwelcome. Left to fend for himself, will he prevail or be left at the mercy of those he fears most?
1. I

The water dripping from the ceiling in the corner of his cell was, Loki decided, an excellent means by which to measure time. Perhaps the span of time between each drop wasn't a completely _accurate_ measure of seconds, but he would take what he could get. In the abyss, where he had first picked up his habit of counting, there was sometimes no external stimulus by which to perceive time – and when there was…Loki shivered, forcing his mind away from the darkness and terror and _pain_ and focusing completely on the task at hand: determining how long he had been waiting here, in this dank corner of Asgard's dungeons, for an audience with the Allfather.

_One day, twelve hours, twenty minutes and fifteen seconds._

The two brothers had materialized directly into the throne room after grasping the Tesseract, which was empty save for Odin, Frigga, and several troops of guards. Frigga ran directly to him and hesitantly embraced him, as if he were an illusion that would dissipate on contact, and Odin did not speak to him at all before ordering him sent to the dungeons, fury and something else undecipherable lingering in his single eye. He wasn't eager to face his false father again, of course – but neither was he apprehensive. Odin could and likely would rip away his immortality and most of his magic, and perhaps order him flogged, humiliated, or otherwise tormented, and even killed – though he doubted the latter would come to pass, if his foster family still held that cloying, wretched _sentiment_ in their hearts for him that Thor had so openly proclaimed on Midgard.

No, the harsh but familiar Asgardian justice meted out by the Allfather was almost a trifling concern, and it was certainly not the reason for Loki's methodical tracking of time. His mind jumped involuntarily back to the dark shadow seemingly closing in around his throat, squeezing his heart and filling his lungs, making it difficult for him draw breath.

_If you fail…if the Tesseract is kept from us…there will be no realm, no barren moon, no __crevice__ we can't find you! You think you know pain? He will make you __long__ for something sweet as pain!_

And indeed he would, Loki mused, still meticulously noting the passage of time despite the unwelcome distraction. After the Other had proclaimed the punishment for failing to deliver, he had so generously given Loki a brief taste of his potential fate – perhaps to motivate him and to ensure his continued loyalty. The feeling of agony galaxies beyond what his nervous system could comprehend, the sensation of having his very soul shredded and remade _again _and _again _and _again_ had indeed motivated him towards heightened brutality and correspondingly desperate plans, but it had not won him the war. The limited time frame that the Other had allowed him did not permit much tactical flexibility – the might of the Chitauri army alone, he was told, would guarantee his victory.

The Other was fatally wrong, as Loki knew he would be, and so he could do little now but await his punishment, imprisoned with his magic bound within the cell, gagged, and chained as he was.

_One day, twelve hours, twenty-eight minutes and thirty seconds…_

Lumbering footsteps broke his trance built upon terror and for once, Loki was relieved by Thor's interruption.

The crown prince stopped before the bars and regarded his adoptive brother for a moment, cringing inwardly as he noted Loki's gaunt, almost emaciated profile, the dark circles under his eyes, and the focused, feral madness of his expression which he had also worn as he rained destruction down upon Midgard.

Still, despite his horror and grief, he would speak to Loki before his sentencing. Thor touched the bars and they disappeared as he stepped inside of the cell. Loki deigned to acknowledge his presence, raising an eyebrow in a nonverbal query.

Thor cleared his throat, fighting the tightness that preceded tears. "Loki…I have pleaded your case before our father, and despite my words, he has made a decision."

Loki snorted, probably due to the reference to Odin as his father, or as a dismissal of his punishment.

"He believes that you need to suffer the consequences of your lust for power despite all costs, to yourself and others. He believes that your fall, although unintended, did not…teach you the error of your path of senseless destruction. "

Thor paused and looked away, as though he wished to spare Loki the pain of what he would say next. Loki gestured impatiently, not particularly caring what the sentence would be – imprisonment, torture, exile or death, he had already faced worse than anything Asgard had to offer after his fall.

"You will be flogged at sunrise, one lash for each life your invasion took. I spoke against this punishment, brother, you must believe me…"

Loki cocked his head, his eyes widening incredulously. Was that _it_? That couldn't be his entire punishment, for he knew that the Allfather could be infinitely more creative and cruel than _that_.

"And afterwards…you will keep your immortality, but your magic will be completely bound. You will be taken to the cavern at the heart of Asgard and chained to the Tree until you genuinely repent of your crimes or you are lost to time and madness."

Loki frowned under his muzzle, not fully comprehending the second phase of his sentence. Where was the lesson, and why would it compel him to repent? Thor had spoken of it more lightly and easily than the flogging, which Loki knew to be merely ceremonial, a crude demonstration of justice for the masses, and not the true objective of the Allfather's punishment.

_Magic completely bound…cavern at the heart of Asgard…consequnces…cost to yourself and others…_

Loki's sleep-deprived mind took longer than usual to put each individual piece together, but when he did, he was faced with a terrifying whole.

The cavern at heart of Asgard was the site of its roots in Yggdrasil, and thus its connection to the cosmic energies of other realms. Magic from outside Asgard could flow in through the roots, though the wards surrounding Asgard's center prevented malevolent energies from pervading the golden realm past a certain point.

He would be trapped inside of the wards, unprotected.

With his magic entirely bound, and no way to secure his mind.

With no means to protect himself from mental invasion, particularly from exceptionally powerful allies whom he had failed.

The Allfather was more brilliant and ruthless than he had ever dared imagine. He did not even have to do anything – just bind Loki's magic and sit back on Hlidskialf and wait, congratulating himself on his own poetic genius.

He distantly heard Thor – _not-brother_ – placating him, telling him that the flogging would be over soon, and that all he had to do after that was show remorse, and then he could be Odinson again.

Loki started to grin underneath his muzzle, chuckling at first, and then laughing soundlessly so hard that the metal prongs that encased his lips and discouraged speech cut him deeply, resulting in trickles of blood pooling in the muzzle and running down the sides of his neck.

Gaze blurred with unshed tears, shoulders shaking with hysteria, he noted the pain on his brother's face before realizing that once his punishment ended, if ever, there would be nothing left of him for Thor to save.

_a/n:_ Poor Loki! How will he handle a situation like this? This is my first Avengers fanfic, so I'd love reviews/advice. Let me know if this is worth continuing.


	2. II

A group of twenty Royal Guards arrived at his cell at daybreak – or what he assumed to be daybreak, given the fact that his cell had no windows. Throughout the night, Loki had desperately tested every corner and seam of the cell, hoping that there was some weakness in the barriers that blocked his magic and would allow him to escape.

There weren't any weak spots that he could find, at least not in a single night, and the runes that lined the walls seemed to absorb most of his magical energy. Worst of all, the more he attempted magic, such as when he recklessly tried to teleport as dawn approached, the more he was drained. Even his despised Jotun form did not fool the wards; apparently Jotun ice was also a type of magical ability.

His situation seemed to be going from bad to worse, but Loki was not yet ready to admit defeat. Perhaps if he appealed to some old, buried fatherly sentiment in Odin (_if it ever existed_) he would be granted some leniency. Normally, his pride would prevent him from begging or willingly appearing weak, but this punishment was far from typical. He had been prepared to handle indefinite imprisonment, torture, and even execution, but he had no wish to slowly go mad from what Thanos had in store for him.

Loki hoped that Odin's previous decision had been a ruse, merely a trick to compel him to beg for mercy. If so, it was working, and he would gladly accept a blow to his pride over a cruel dismantling of everything he was.

The guards blocked the entrance to the cell and replaced the shackles Thor had put on him after the battle in Manhattan with heavier chains for his wrists and ankles. Like the walls of his cell, they too were woven with powerful runes that would prevent any magical attempt at escape.

The muzzle, of course, was not removed.

He was dragged through the bowels of the palace up to the surface and towards the throne room. Guards flanked him on all sides, and he was privately glad for it: the halls were lined with Asgardians, nobles and commoners, and none appeared too happy with him.

There were the expected jeers of "traitor," Liesmith," and _argr_, and occasional piece of rotten fruit or a sheath thrown his way, most of which the guards deflected. Some people whispered, and Loki caught snatches of conversations; talk of madness, black magic, and bargains made in blood.

_Some of which,_ Loki mused,_ is actually accurate._

He couldn't help but notice the lack of "monster" or "jotun" in the commoners' taunts – perhaps the truth had never been revealed, or at least had never reached their ears. He was glad of it; the loss of his false Asgardian identity in the eyes of the people would only hurt him now.

Loki raised his head as the guards slowed and looked up at Asgard's golden throne. He was forced to kneel, his knees hitting the floor with enough force to bruise. His insides twisted when he saw Odin staring coldly and regally down at him, Gungir in hand, every inch a king. _He_ had sat on that throne once, as Asgard's rightful king, and now he would be judged as some common criminal. He only hoped that Odin would not make such a spectacle out of his pleas for mercy, if he was even granted the opportunity to speak.

Thor and Frigga occupied spaces on the dais on Odin's right side, Sif and the Warriors Three on his left. They all looked somber, Frigga on the verge of tears, though several millennia as the Queen of Asgard allowed her to keep a mostly impassive mask in place.

Loki's eyes briefly met Sif's, and he felt a momentary thrill as she glared back at him, not even bothering to disguise her fury and sense of betrayal. He smiled slightly, as much as the muzzle would allow. Sif had ever been the only Asgardian to unfailingly see through his façade; it provided both endless frustration and also endless opportunities for amusement.

Their nonverbal showdown was broken by Guingir hitting the seat of the throne; the echo reverberated throughout the room and the people instantly fell silent.

"Loki Odinson," the Allfather began, voice not faltering even slightly over his lie, "you are here today to be sentenced for treason, attempted genocide of the Jotun and the near destruction of one of the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil, and the invasion and attempted enslavement of Midgard, which led to the deaths of hundreds of its innocent mortal inhabitants. You have conspired with the dregs of the universe and have made bargains for power which could have resulted in dire consequences for all of the Realms. You have betrayed you family and have even tried to murder your own brother, the most despicable crime imaginable under Asgardian law. In addition, because of you, the Bifrost was broken and Asgard is now isolated from the rest of the Nine Realms."

Hearing his crimes described in such unflinching terms did not faze Loki, but Odin's refusal to disown him did. If he was still Loki Odinson, and Thor was his brother, how could Odin carry out his original sentence? Was he still claiming him as a son not out of love, but rather due to the shame of his true origins?

"Your guilt is unquestionable, and now all that remains is your punishment. For your actions against Jotunheim, including the murder of their King and the mass destruction to the Realm caused by your tampering with the Bifrost, I can punish you no further."

Loki's eyes widened, and confused murmurs ran through the assembled crowd. Nobody _liked_ the Jotuns, and war stories of slaying the monsters in battle were still told around fires, but the attempted destruction of an entire realm through such cowardly means had never been seen before.

Odin tapped Gungir against the steps again, and the people fell silent.

"You have fallen into the Abyss created by your own hand, and suffered the very horrors you thought to unleash upon Jotunheim. This was a fitting punishment, equal in scale to your crimes and well-deserved." Odin's single eye softened momentarily before he continued, "But you still have the deaths of over five hundred mortals and treason against Asgard to answer for!"

"For each mortal life either you or your army has taken, you will receive one lash. If you survive this punishment today, once you have healed you will be taken to the heart of Asgard, bereft of your magic, and chained in the cavern with no protection for your mind. There the allies from the dark realms that you have also wronged will receive payment for your betrayal."

There was a pause before the crowd broke into thunderous applause. Loki felt unsteady; his stomach churned with hatred and his heart pounded in his chest. So Thor's words were true. The man he had once considered his father had abandoned him to a far worse fate than anything he himself could inflict.

Odin waited until the applause died down before continuing. "You have proven yourself unworthy of this Realm. If you become worthy again, and feel true remorse for your crimes, your bonds will break and you will be given one last chance to atone for your actions. Remember that you brought this fate on your own head; no one can punish you more than you punish yourself. Your pride hurts you above all, but your repentance may be your only salvation. Take him."

The guards pulled him roughly to his feet, and Loki started to panic once he realized that he would not be allowed to speak and sway Odin's decision. Once a sentence was proclaimed, honor demanded that it be carried out. Through eyes blurred with tears, he saw Frigga crying as well, and Sif moving to her side to comfort her. The crowd dispersed, following Loki and his guards to the main square outside of the palace where he would be flogged.

He saw no means of escape as long as he was surrounded and still chained, and he regretted any amount of sentiment that he had ever held for Odin, who had saved him once from certain death only to later destroy him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Loki only felt the cut of the whip for the first twenty or so of his lashes. Each successive lash only added to the fire that was smoldering and growing across his back, sides, and spreading to the rest of his body, clouding his vision and sending tremors through his arms, which were chained above his head.

He let the fire consume him, push his fear out of his mind and erase his sense of time. Only the instant existed: the verbal count of each lash, the sound of the whip cutting through the air and hitting his back, the cheers and gasps of the crowd, and the constant dripping of blood from his torn back down his legs and onto the ground.

He had faced worse pain before. The Abyss was not a forgiving place, and the tortures he faced there made him scream until he lost his voice, until he forgot his name and prayed only for the sweet mercy of death. But he would not cry out here, or show his tormenters any sign of weakness. He used to be their King, and while they could have his blood, they would not have the satisfaction of his pleas – he had strength enough for that.

Although the pain sharpened his mind, his body began to weaken. Loki slipped intermittently in and out of consciousness, and at times the lashes had to be postponed until a healer could stem some of the bleeding. Asgardians were strong, Jotuns even more so, but five hundred and fifty lashes was no small injury.

Eventually, after some time, he no longer heard counting, or the sound of the whip cutting through the air. The flames that licked his body still blazed, however, and his arms started to numb from holding his weight for so long.

The crowd started to disperse, some Asgardians jeering, some laughing, and others looking rather ill. Loki closed his eyes and slumped as far as his chains would allow, exhausted.

He started when he felt a cool hand on his forehead, a welcome respite from the fire on his back and the fever that addled his mind.

Frigga smoothed his tangled hair back, kissed his forehead and lowered his chains on the post so that his arms would not have to bear his full weight. Ashamed, he tried to break away from her embrace, and found that he could not look her in the eye.

She gently raised his chin and made him look at her. "No matter what, you will always be my son," she whispered. "I only wish you would believe me, and know how deeply we mourned when you fell."

He believed her, but he would rather have her hatred than her love. Hate, he could handle, but love both angered him and made him feel something disturbingly close to guilt – and he had nothing to feel guilty for, as he was the one who was betrayed! Merely a stolen relic to be used and disposed of at Odin's whim. And now, with his judgment, Odin had abandoned him more thoroughly than he ever had on the Bifrost. Frigga claimed to love him, but she had lied to him his entire life alongside Odin, knowing that one day he would make use of his pawn and shatter the illusion of family once and for all.

But now he could speak. If he could not appeal to the Allfather for mercy, perhaps he had a chance, albeit a small one, of convincing Frigga that the sentence was unjust.

"If you ever loved me as your son," Loki began, his voice broken by exhaustion and pain, "you will kill me before I am left to Thanos. I would rather have your mercy than his."

Frigga paled at the Titan's name but did not look surprised. Again, Loki wondered how Odin knew it was Thanos who had gifted him the army. Even Heimdall could not see those dark places of Yggdrasil where Loki was found after his fall, broken and bleeding, and given power and a glorious purpose.

"I would kill you to spare you the pain, if there was no hope. But your father – _and he is your father_ – has given you a chance for redemption. Use it well."

"There is no hope. I have no remorse for invading Midgard, and why should I? The mortals slaughter each other in droves, and feel nothing for killing their own kind! I wished only to help them!"

Frigga shook her head, disappointment in her eyes. "You claim to have wanted to help them, but you really wanted to be King again. Hundreds of innocents died because of you. How are your actions any more justifiable than theirs?"

Loki bristled, not liking her comparison. "People die in wars. I would have ultimately brought peace to their realm. There is no such thing as true freedom – we all strive for things we can never have."

"If you are speaking of the love of your family, you could not be any more wrong. Remember that you can still choose to return to us." With that, Frigga kissed his forehead one last time and left for the palace.

With his mind churning, Loki barely felt the guards half-carry, half-drag him back to the dungeons to await the second part of his sentence. Once he was healed, Odin would bind his magic and his true punishment would begin.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ Odin is a bit of a hard-ass, isn't he? I think he just wants Loki to take some damn responsibility already. I'm planning on him explaining his reasoning more in the next chapter when he finally speaks with Loki one-on-one. More Thor and brotherly love as well.

I don't think there will be any major pairings in this story, aside some pre-Loki/Sif, and I might explore their relationship more in a sequel. Here I will mainly be focusing on Loki's (possible) path towards redemption.


	3. III

_a/n: _Thanks so much for the follows/reviews. This is my first attempt at writing Loki, so I hope I have him at least somewhat in character. The reason Thor is not fighting Loki's sentence is because he does not really understand who Thanos is or what Loki has been through. He's just glad his brother is back and is not being executed, and he will realize (a bit) more of what Loki has faced in this chapter. Odin may have hidden reasons for punishing Loki in this cruel manner, and he knows more than he lets on. I think Odin is largely to blame for Loki's descent into madness, although Loki bears some responsibility as well. I think Loki has the _potential_ to be redeemed, but that it would take a huge and ugly shock to make him want to try. Not that this entirely justifies Odin's actions, of course.

Feels ahead!

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Loki snarled and angled his bleeding, skinned back towards the wall so that a certain blond oaf would be unable to tend to it. He did not trust Thor's healing skills – the brute's area of expertise was limited to smashing skulls with Mjolnir, at least as far as Loki was concerned.

"Peace, brother," Thor sighed in exasperation. "The healer gave me very specific instructions for the use of the healing stone. I am merely supposed to crush it and spread it over your wounds. I could not botch this even if I tried." The healers were only permitted to close Loki's wounds enough so that his punishment could commence, and not dull the pain. Thor, for some unfathomable reason, had volunteered to tend to Loki in their place.

Loki rolled his eyes. "First of all, we are not brothers. Secondly, I did not ask for your pity. Have you forgotten already that I have twice tried to murder you?"

Thor's expression darkened. "Three times, by my count. Although perhaps you were not serious on the Man of Iron's tower? It was, after all, quite a small knife. You did not even poison the blade, which I have seen you do before. All in all, a feeble attempt."

_If looks could kill_, Thor realized, _Loki would succeed in his fratricide right now, after all._

"And we _are_ brothers, Loki," Thor continued, ignoring Loki's deepening glower. "You may feel betrayed, but we played together, grew together, fought together. We were raised as brothers since infancy, and your anger over slights _cannot change that_."

Loki gaped incredulously, his pale skin flushing with suppressed rage.

"_Slights!?_ Odinson, your father stole me from a temple in Jotunheim - "

"_Saved_ you from certain death, Loki, and gave you a home –"

"So he could use me as a weapon later, to secure some misguided peace with a race of savage monsters! As if the Aesir would not delight in slaughtering the beasts in battle until Ragnarok! Giving me this false skin and false hope, making me believe that I had the opportunity to be seen as worthy – "

Thor grabbed Loki's shoulders and shook him roughly, rattling his chains, feeling tears begin to sting his eyes. Loki groaned and Thor released him immediately, remembering his injuries. He cursed his short temper and Loki's ability to provoke him to anger with words alone, a feat that not many could accomplish, at least not since his banishment.

"I'm sorry, brother," Thor whispered, ignoring Loki's incredulous scoff. "You are not a monster, and had I always known your ancestry, I would have spoken better of the Jotun, and forced others to do so as well."

"_Really_, Odinson? Even before your banishment and _miraculous _change of character? Or would you have rejected me as your brother all along, and attributed my differences to my dirty blood? And if I were to show you my monstrous form now, if not for these chains, would you still call me _brother, _in truth? Or would you grimace inwardly and attempt to hide your disgust to save face?"

Thor knew that this was a challenge, and that he had to answer correctly. Loki would twist whatever he said, and if he did not acknowledge Loki's fears, however baseless they were, he would not emerge from this verbal battle as the victor. Loki was not called _Silvertongue_ for trifling reasons; he could spin his own untruths masterfully, of course, but his true talent lay in his ability to make others doubt their most heartfelt words and vows.

"In truth, I do not know how I would have reacted before my banishment. Perhaps you are correct, and perhaps I would have denied you as my brother out of shame. But, Loki…." Thor swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping that Loki would not reject his next words. "After you fell, and our father told me of your origins, I did not care. I did not care about your blood, or that you sent the Destroyer after our friends and me. I would have given anything to have you back, I would have taken your place in the Abyss, I swear to you…"

Loki paled and looked away. "You know not what you say," he muttered, staring at the blood-splattered floor.

"And if you were to show me your Jotun form someday, I will not lie, perhaps I would not like it at first. But I would remember that you are my brother in bond, if not in blood, and that it does not change the fact that you have always been Loki, my brother."

Loki stayed uncharacteristically silent, and continued to stare blankly at the stone floor, unreadable.

"I hope you show me one day. I will not renounce you, brother, you must know that," Thor continued, uneasy by Loki's lack of reaction. "Now will you let me heal your wounds?"

Loki sighed, and rolled onto his stomach on the wooden bench so Thor could apply the healing stone. "I suppose there is no point in delaying the inevitable," he began, sounding resigned. "Odin will not allow me to stay here and avoid his judgment forever."

Thor crushed the stone in his fist and sprinkled an even layer over Loki's back. Most of his skin was gone, the muscle torn and exposed to open air. Thor thought that he could even see bone in a few places, and while he had certainly witnessed floggings and similar injuries many times before, he winced as he remembered Loki's. The sorcerer had barely shown any indication that he was in pain, which almost made the punishment harder to witness. Again, Thor was left to wonder how far afield his brother's mind had become after his fall. Even Asgard's most brutal warriors could not keep completely silent during such a flogging. Still, Thor had forced himself to witness every lash. He would not turn away in cowardice while his brother was suffering so bravely.

The pieces of the stone glowed and Loki's wounds slowly closed, torn muscle knitting together and missing skin re-growing. Thor grabbed the damp cloths he had brought when the wounds were sufficiently healed and began to wipe away the dried blood.

Parts of Loki's back and torso were covered in strange scars that he hadn't noticed before during the flogging. Even though he had lost most of the skin on his back, the old scars re-grew with his new skin after it healed. There were oddly shaped ridges and valleys, and in some painful looking places the skin was translucent and discolored to the point of turning black. Asgardians did not scar easily, and Thor had never before seen anything like this.

He ran his fingers along one particularly deep scar and Loki shuddered.

"Who did this to you, Loki?" Thor's hands shook with barely suppressed rage. "Was it the Chitauri? If so, if any of them still live, they will not escape my vengeance."

Loki laughed, sounding more than a little unhinged. "The Chitauri? Few of their crude instruments could even break my skin! No, Thor. You did this to me."

Thor leapt to his feet, pulling Loki up with him, and slammed him against the wall, seeing red.

"_Liar!_ You musn't jest. I didn't…you know I would never…"

Loki, still weak from blood loss, did not even bother to fight against Thor's grip on his throat. He simply smiled slowly, his eyes filled with malice, and leaned forward.

"You tossed me into the Abyss," he whispered. "You let me go. Perhaps you thought it would kill me, but it wasn't a sure thing, was it, _brother_? There was no body. It was all very clean in the end, was it not, until I returned? The monster was simply gone, exiled from your shining realm and perfect golden family. And perhaps you knew, deep down, that I wasn't dead, and that I was suffering all along for my so-called betrayal. Maybe that was why you let me fall."

Thor paused, his insides twisting in horror. Did Loki truly believe his own words, or was he simply trying to provoke him? His mind flashed back to Loki's words on the cliff in Midgard: "_I remember you tossing me into an abyss."_ At the time, Thor had disregarded Loki's claim, believing it to be a trick. Now he wondered if Loki's memory was as twisted as his mind. His anger returned in full force. Again, his brother placed the blame for his own decisions entirely on his family, as if they constantly and joyfully devised new ways to make him suffer. Thor had heard enough.

"You let go! I tried to save you, but you would not have it. You let us think you dead while you conspired with the Chitauri and planned to murder countless mortals, all so that you could fulfill your poisonous dream of becoming a King!"

"_I __am__ a King," _Loki shouted, trying in vain to break free from Thor's grip.

"Not anymore! You must be mad, brother, to disregard our suffering so, especially our mother's. We all _mourned_ for you, Loki, and Frigga could not leave her chambers for months. Although he thought there was no hope, our father tried to scry your location, and even consulted the sorceress Karnilla for aid! And I…I visited the Bifrost every day, asking Heimdall if he could see you, always to receive the same response…that you were dead, or lost to the cosmos."

He released Loki, who slid down the wall, holding his head in his hands and muttering to himself under his breath.

Thor took a deep breath and tried to regain his temper, cursing himself for succumbing to anger again. Loki was clearly irrational, and he might not listen to reason, but Thor could try to reach him.

He knelt down to Loki's level and pulled his hands away from his eyes. "If I wanted you gone, why did I bring you back? I could have killed you on Midgard after the battle. Few would have faulted me."

Loki shook his head, an almost animal fear in his eyes.

Thor pressed on. "Why did I offer you another chance during the battle, if I believed you to be so beyond hope? Our mother has already forgiven you in her heart. And our father could have sentenced you to death, Loki, but he has given you one last chance to redeem yourself."

Loki swallowed nervously and spoke, his voice shaking. "He…he told me…"

Thor frowned. "Who told you this?"

All at once, Loki's expression closed off again. "Thanos. But his name matters not. And if these scars turn your stomach, know that they are _nothing _compared to what He will do to me when I hang on the tree tomorrow. You say Odin has offered me redemption, but Thanos will unmake me, and _Odin knows it_. This is the last time I will be able to have a mutual conversation with you, brother. Soon, my mind will be gone."

Thor shook his head, but inwardly rejoiced at Loki's slip of 'brother.' "It does not have to be so – father gave you a way out. You must feel genuine remorse. I know you have it in you. You unleashed horrors on Midgard, but you heart was not in it."

"You know not what I'm capable of now," Loki said quietly, avoiding Thor's eyes.

"Not everything. But I know that you did not love what you did on Midgard, at least not all of it. You made your own choices, but your mind was corrupted by the Chitauri's scepter and Thanos's lies. There is a way back, Loki. Remember my words during the next part of your punishment. You will not be truly alone – I will be there with you, in spirit, and I will be waiting for you to return."

Loki smiled sadly, the same resigned, knowing smile he had given Thor before choosing to plummet from the Bifrost into oblivion. "I will remember, brother. Hopefully it will help me endure a little longer."

Thor laughed and enveloped him in a crushing hug, not relenting until Loki was gasping for air.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Thor had insisted that Loki bathe and eat a full meal before Odin arrived to bind his magic. Loki argued at first, not seeing the point of being clean and well-fed if he was only to go irreparably mad anyway in the near future. Still, the soap and warm water that servants brought down to the dungeon felt good against his skin, which was covered in years' worth of sweat, grime, and blood. The meat and mead that Thor forced him to finish was a bit more of a challenge, as Loki did not remember the last time he had eaten and his stomach was unaccustomed to food. After he ate, however, some of his pain and fear dulled he began to feel drowsy for the first time in recent memory.

His worn armor was taken from him but his tunic and leathers were returned. Soon, Sif was sent to guard him while Thor rested in the corner of the cell, having not slept at all since their return.

She watched him through narrowed eyes, ready to spot any attempt at escape. He smirked, enjoying the rising anger in her eyes and the way she clutched the hilt of her sword.

"My Lady Sif," he began silkily, "you need not be frightened of me. After all, how can I hope to escape, with no weapon, my magic restrained, and yourself and dozens of guards between these dungeons and my freedom?"

She rose to the bait, as he hoped she would. "I am not frightened of you, _Liesmith_, I am only eager to see you pay for what you've done. It would be a shame to have you run off with only half of your punishment completed, ready and able to cause mayhem again. I'm sure you agree."

"I'm afraid that I must disagree. If I see an opportunity to escape, I will take it without hesitation, ending whoever stands in my way," he gloated, hoping that he could somehow provoke her into disobeying her orders and ending his life. He doubted it, but if he could bring it about, it was better than facing Thanos.

She scoffed, not rising to his provocation. "Why? I fail to see how this punishment is so fearsome. While I am certain the Allfather has his reasons, usually traitors receive far more bloody and permanent dues. I think you are even more of a coward than you are given credit for."

Not wanting to dwell on his punishment, Loki attempted to anger her again. "Interesting that _you_ should call _me_ a traitor. As I recall, you disobeyed my direct orders against retrieving Thor on Midgard with the rest of your oath-breaking band. Since I was the rightful king of Asgard, and you were sworn to obey me, that means you are an oathbreaker and a traitor. Do you deny it?"

Sif's eyes flashed, and Loki thought for a moment that she might strike him. If he chose his words well, perhaps he could manipulate her into breaking her oath against harming him unnecessarily. After all, she had broken her oaths before, and what was once more?

"I deny it," she replied, quietly but firmly.

Loki laughed, incredulous. "You _deny_ that disobeying your King was treason? I think you misunderstand what treason is, and how binding an oath to a king truly is!"

Sif rose immediately to defend her honor. "You were not the rightful king. You conspired to have Thor banished and then usurped a throne that did not belong to you. You acted as you always have, taking what you want out of trickery and deceit instead of earning it or having it freely given. You were never meant to be King of Asgard, Loki."

Loki bristled, unhappy that now _he _was the one losing control of his temper. Even worse, Sif dared to question his rule! Just because he was not Thor Odinson did not mean that he was unfit to rule Asgard, or that he was jealous of his brother's future throne. He had never wanted it in the first place, until it fell unexpectedly on his shoulders.

"Let me help you understand," Loki ground out icily, "exactly how wrong you are. First off, you claim that I conspired to have Thor banished. This is incorrect. I wanted to expose his idiocy, true, but I never thought that Odin would _banish _him for what he did. I ordered a guard to tell the Allfather of his plans before we left for Jotunheim. Having Thor start a war with the Frost Giants was never a part of my plan."

Sif opened her mouth to disagree but he continued, ignoring her. "You also claim that I usurped the throne. This is not true. I did not foresee Thor's banishment _and_ the Odinsleep happening at the same time. Frigga gave the throne and Gungir to me until Odin awoke, to fill the void of power while Asgard was preparing for war. Although you claim that I steal all that I have and am freely given nothing, I did not ask for the throne, nor did I desire it."

Sif laughed in disbelief. "What were you after in Midgard, then, if not to rule the mortals? Perhaps you were technically the King here, but your intentions for Asgard and your family were _never_ selfless. You were unfit to rule. Paint yourself as a victim all you like, but your tricks will not work with me."

Loki shot to his feet unsteadily and Sif drew her sword. _Good,_ he thought viciously,_ I hope she is prepared to use it_. Thor, the great oaf, was still sleeping soundly on the stool in the corner of the cell, Mjolnir by his side on the floor. Looking at it only increased his ire – another gift given generously and thoughtlessly to Thor, while he was passed over. And when he finally had an opportunity to prove himself worthy, Sif and the Traitors Three had betrayed him without a second thought.

"Think you I _wanted_ the throne? Do you think I looked forward to leading Asgard into a brutal war against Jotunheim, where Odin himself barely prevailed? Think you I wanted to deal with the scorn of the court, who would be dismayed that I ruled in place of Thor? And then to have my so-called friends break their oaths without a moment's pause, all to fetch one who was banished for disobeying the Allfather's command and starting a reckless war? No, Lady Sif. Say what you will about me now, but do not presume what my motives were _then_."

"Your motives were twisted," Sif hissed back, lowering her sword to her side. "Perhaps you were justified in punishing us for breaking our oaths, although we had good reason, but Thor did you no wrong. You tried to kill your own brother, Loki! Kinslayers are the most depraved of criminals, and are beyond forgiveness, so it is fortunate that you did not succeed. You betrayed Asgard, you betrayed your family, and you betrayed your friends. Including _me. _And if you are trying to provoke me, you will not succeed. I am only here to prevent your escape, not to seek vengeance, however well-deserved."

Loki chuckled, undeterred, a new idea forming in his mind. He had never heard Sif or any other Asgardian speak well of the frost giants. From what she said, she still thought he was truly a son of Odin. If he exposed the lie, perhaps she would be more willing to claim her vengeance. It didn't matter anymore – for all of Thor's encouraging words, his punishment would certainly break him.

"It is fortunate, then," Loki whispered, "that Thor is not my brother in truth."

Sif's eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you saying? Are you mad? Of course he is –"

Echoing footsteps in the hall announced the arrival of a large group of people – undoubtedly a troop of royal guards. Loki knew their presence could only mean one thing: Odin had arrived to bind his magic.

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_a/n: _Sorry for the cliffhanger! I originally planned to have a confrontation between Odin and Loki in this chapter, but I didn't want too much drama in a single chapter. They will have a nice chat very soon ;). Reviews and feedback are always welcome!


	4. IV

Loki's heart sank as Odin and an escort of guards appeared outside of the cell. Thor started awake and stood, and both he and Sif bowed as Odin entered the cell carrying his spear, signaling the guards to wait further down the hall. Loki did not bow or kneel; Odin was not his king, and was certainly not his father. Being forced to kneel at his sentencing was humiliating enough, and he stood as tall as he could, although his whole body cried out for rest.

_Rest will not find me for a long time_, Loki observed spitefully, _once Odin gets his way._

"Thor, Sif," the Allfather began, "wait with the guards down the hall. I will speak to the prisoner alone."

'_The prisoner?' Well, perhaps Odin too has grown weary of pretending we are family. It's about time – this farce is becoming rather tedious._

Thor gave him an encouraging smile over his shoulder, but Loki noticed that his expression was tinged with concern. It was similar to the looks he had given Loki when they were children and were being punished separately for some mischief that they had devised together. Now, they were grown men and Loki's actions had gone far beyond good-natured mischief. He would not talk his way out of this with a slap on the wrist.

Sif looked curiously at him as she followed Thor into the hall, a lingering question in her eyes. Perhaps she would ask Thor what Loki had meant, and if she learned the truth about his parentage, she would regret not taking revenge. Loki was surprised to see that Sif looked concerned as well – but, he realized, it was certainly meant for Thor, and not for him. He knew that she would probably delight in his suffering while, like Thor, not understanding fully what the sentence meant.

"Loki," Odin stated evenly once the pair had left, his single eye blank and unreadable.

"Odin – Allfather," Loki replied drily. "We need not stand on ceremony now. Throw me to the wolves and be done with it."

"Do you think I find joy in this," Odin snapped, taking a step closer. "I am doing what I must, and nothing more."

Loki had spent the few last hours shaking with suppressed fear and rage, and now he felt himself losing all semblance of control again, falling headfirst into the same deep abyss that he visited over a year ago (_ or was it centuries ago? millennia?) _in the weapons vault.

"_You could have just__ killed__ me_," Loki screamed, wanting nothing more than to destroy Odin, to tear out his remaining eye and crush it beneath his heel and squeeze the breath out of his throat with his bare hands. _"Better that than leaving me to Thanos! _ You would never do this to your _true_ son!_"_ But his body would not cooperate, and he sank to his knees in exhaustion, months' lack of sleep and injuries from the flogging stealing all of the strength from his limbs.

"If Thor committed your crimes he would have received a similar punishment. If I killed you, I would be sparing you a valuable lesson and granting mercy that you do not deserve. I would also be saying that you are beyond redemption, when you are not."

Loki's head spun in confusion. Odin's explanation had made no sense to him when Thor first told him of his punishment, and it made even less sense now. Was the old man senile? How would being tortured by Thanos encourage him to repent? Or was this merely an unconventional type of _weregild_, with his strongest weapon, his mind, condemned to destruction in recompense for his betrayal of Asgard? Did Odin even expect him to be able to show remorse?

"_How_," was the only word Loki was able to force past his teeth, his renowned silver tongue utterly failing him.

"First, you must understand that all actions have repercussions," Odin explained coldly. "You willingly allied with Thanos, knowing that if he ever possessed the Tesseract, all of the Realms would burn, and countless innocents would be slaughtered. Is this true?"

"If you only knew of my desperation – "

"_Is this true or not, Loki!?_"

"I cannot deny it," Loki responded reluctantly, unsurprised that Odin had once again refused to listen to his words.

"You allied with Thanos," Odin continued, "and when you realized that Midgard could not be subjugated as easily as you had hoped, you provided her warriors with a means to close the portal, destroying the entire army you borrowed from him in the process. Did you hope to take the Tesseract for yourself with the Chitauri gone, leaving Thanos with no means to challenge you? When that plan failed, did you hope you could play an unsung hero when Thor brought you back to Asgard?"

Loki couldn't think of a clever, misdirecting response quickly enough. His head was pounding and there were spots in his vision and Odin was speaking so _fast_ and all that he said was more or less true –

"I…I can't…"

"_**Answer the question!**_"

"It's true," Loki whispered, knowing that there was no point in lying.

"So it is," Odin replied evenly. "You not only betrayed Asgard and the realms that you swore to protect, but then your new benefactor as well. You probably expected us to protect you from his wrath when you returned, did you not? To prey on our sentiment as you preyed on Thanos's bloodlust, and all the while continue to reject Asgard and your family in your heart?"

"Yes," Loki responded, resigned to the idea that the Allfather would see through any mistruths. He wanted to scream in frustration; even without the muzzle, he was no better off in conversation, now that his wits had left him.

"If I punished you in any other way, I would be giving you exactly what you want: an escape route. I will not do that, Loki. I will not allow you to repeat your fall from the Bifrost."

Loki felt as though he had been physically struck. Was Odin mad? As though he had _wanted _to visit the Abyss! As though Odin had not figuratively pushed Loki off the Bifrost himself with his rejection.

"I did not exactly fall anywhere _pleasant_, Allfather. For countless years I suffered untold agony! I tried repeatedly to escape, only to be beaten down without mercy! The price was paid again and again! Justice was served, you said so yourself."

"The price was paid," Odin agreed, regret in his eye, "but you are no better off for it."

Loki looked away, preferring not to think on Odin's regret. Shouldn't he hate Loki, after his betrayal? If not, then why had he rejected his pleas on the Bifrost? But there was more Odin had not yet told him about his punishment, and Loki needed to know what it was.

"And how else do you think this will lead to my redemption," Loki sneered, still skeptical of the idea. Odin had only spoken of payment and justice so far, but not anything that would cultivate remorse that had not been present before.

"That is far simpler. Without your magic, forced to face a powerful enemy who will not grant mercy, you will be no better off than the mortals who were at your mercy on Midgard. How can you have empathy, unless you understand? And once you understand, you may feel remorse. You have never been fully deprived of your magic before. Even in the Abyss it must have helped you endure."

Loki laughed mirthlessly. "I have felt a taste of Thanos's punishment before, when I was warned of the consequences of betrayal. It only lasted a moment, but I know from what I experienced that my mind would not survive even an hour of it. Exactly how quickly do you expect me to repent?"

Odin shook his head. "Thanos is realms away. His power will not be nearly as strong here, even if your mind is unguarded. You will have time."

Without warning, Odin struck Gungir against the stone floor, and Loki felt his forearms erupt in fiery pain. Looking down, he saw runes searing their way into his skin, runes that were designed specifically to bind his magic in its entirety. He watched, shaking as they formed, beginning red-hot and fading to black as they cooled.

As the runes twisted their way from his wrists up to his elbows, Loki felt their effects immediately. His magic had been restrained before, of course, but never entirely bound. He thought that the binding of his magic would feel similar to how he felt in his cell and after he had been chained for his sentencing; he would be able to sense his magic somehow, and would just not be able to access it.

He was wrong.

Loki felt as if Odin had reached inside his chest, pulled out his beating heart and then sealed up the wound. He felt like a salmon slowly suffocating in a fisherman's boat, flopping around in a useless attempt to fill his gills with water. He felt as if his skin and organs and bones were all inverted, with his eyes inside of his skull and his heart in his stomach.

Loki clawed at the floor, tears falling without him realizing it. If Thanos's wrath was any crueler than _this_, he knew that his mind would not last long against the torment.

Through his haze of pain and despair, Loki felt a hand on his forehead and heard muttered words. Slowly, his surroundings came back into focus. The horrible emptiness in his mind and body did not fade, but his breathing slowed and he felt some of his wits return.

Odin was kneeling next to him, chanting a spell that was meant to calm warriors who were either in a fury or withdrawn in terror after a battle. Loki angrily shoved his hand away, still barely able to comprehend the sense of loss that he felt.

"You could have warned me," he hissed, struggling to stay conscious. He did not want to appear weak in front of Odin.

"I apologize," Odin replied gravely. "There was no easy way to do that."

Loki closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing.

"What now," he muttered, once he could form words again. "When shall I be bound to the tree?"

"At sunrise. Thor shall accompany us. You should rest tonight, Loki, sleep if you can. If you lose your senses entirely, this will be even harder for you."

Odin stood and turned to leave, that maddening _regret_ once more in his eye.

"Wait," Loki called, remembering the question that lingered in the back of his mind. "Why did you deny me on the Bifrost, if you did not want me to fall?"

Odin frowned, his single eye measuring Loki's question. "I did not mean no, you could not have done it, and made me proud," he replied slowly. "I meant no, you never had to."

Loki gaped as Odin left the cell, feeling his whole world shatter around him. But in his shock there was a trace of an emotion he had not felt in a long time: hope.

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_a/n_: Thanks for the follows and reviews! Although this chapter ended a bit more positively, Loki has a tough journey ahead of him.


	5. V

_a/n:_ Thanks so much for the follows and reviews! All of your comments are so helpful. I was a bit afraid of posting this story but I'm so glad people find it interesting :)

On the matter of what Odin's words meant on the Bifrost, when I first watched the movie I thought that he meant no, Loki, don't let go, because he knew Loki was about to kill himself. When I re-watched it, I thought that he was rejecting Loki's actions, but not Loki himself – he was probably horrified at what Loki did, and that his lies contributed to it, at least that's how I interpreted it. And he looked shocked when Loki let go :(

As far as punishment in Asgard goes, from watching _Thor_, I didn't get the sense that they have anything similar to therapy. Flogging and similar punishments seem routine (Loki talks about how a guard should be flogged). It's weird, because Asgard is technologically advanced, but in some ways still stuck in the middle ages. Odin's punishment is cruel, yes, but "there's always a reason for everything he does." In my story, he has several reasons that have yet to be revealed.

I plan to explore the effects of Odin and Frigga's lies about Loki's parentage more in future chapters, and why he was raised believing Jotuns are monsters.

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_He is falling._

"_No, Loki." A rejection of his very being, cold and final. Detached. Had he ever known this man?_

_Galaxies are born and die before his eyes, and Yggdrasil is consumed by everlasting flame. A ship of nails appears on the horizon, a harbinger of death. _

_Death. Death. He knew someone who worshipped death._

_(Blue tinting his vision, yes, yes, this was better. I am a king without a kingdom, but now I have a home)_

_Home. Golden arches, the clash of swords in a training ring, the hidden corners of a library, a mother's embrace._

_(Or is he ascending?)_

_Space and time do not weave together coherently here. He has stopped falling, and is trapped in a desolate landscape._

_Pain beyond pain._

_Agony he has never experienced, has never imagined. Venom searing though his eyes, _

_(Father, Mother, PLEASE)_

_His skin flayed off and acid poured over the wounds,_

_(Thor, brother, ANYONE)_

_A pit of bottomless darkness, insects covering his body, devouring his eyes, crawling down his throat and nesting in his stomach,_

_(ImsorryImsorryiwasunworthyso meonepleasehelpanyone)_

_Endless, eternal. What is time is the Abyss? What is direction?_

_Who is he? _

_(What good is a name in a living nightmare?)_

_(Loki, son of No-one)_

_A light. He reaches for it, like a babe for its mother, instinctive, uncomprehending._

_(Clawing through space and time, anger, desperation, but no fear. He always knew he would die alone)_

_Drifting, stars, darkness. If this is death, he feels blessed. At least there is no new pain._

_An impact. Bones and rock splintering, a newly-formed crater baptized with blood._

_(So this is the end)_

_Voices and movement. Reptilian clicking and screeching, no discernible words._

_A pause. Heavier footsteps shake the ground, _

_(and he knows this is his reckoning, more so than his broken back and the blood filling his lungs)_

_A booming laugh echoes in his ears, a laugh of arrogance, of victory –_

Loki jerked awake, heart pounding in his ears, his sudden movement rattling his chains. He sat up, holding his head in his hands, trying to push the nightmare (_the memories_) out of his mind and settle his breathing.

After Odin had left, he did not expect sleep to come easily, but he was surprised. The binding of his magic exhausted him more than he expected, and encouraged sleep that he had not known for some months. Almost as soon as he closed his eyes, however, he began dreaming, and now he felt a lingering sense of dread that had not yet dissipated upon waking.

The shadows in the hall outside of his cell seemed deeper and more sinister after his nightmare, but at least he was no longer seeing movement out of the corners of his eyes where there was none, or occasionally hearing his whispered name in an otherwise empty room.

Perhaps the sleep had helped return his wits like Odin suggested, but like all of his adoptive father's advice lately, it came at a price. Loki frowned, recalling a part of his dream that stuck in his mind: the sensation of falling and the words before that had broken him beyond repair.

_No, Loki_.

_I did not mean no, you could not have done it, and made me proud. I meant no, you never had to._

Loki's head spun. He did not know which interpretation to believe: his or Odin's. _One of us is either wrong, or lying,_ he deduced,_ and I am not lying. Is my memory as flawed as Thor claims? Or does the Allfather seek to manipulate me, to win back my affection for some future purpose?_

The words had remained burned in his memory even after it had been warped by agony in the Abyss and twisted by Thanos for his sinister designs. If he had truly let go, as Thor claimed, he knew that the Allfather's words were a deciding factor in his decision to die. Odin was a father, perhaps, but first and foremost he was a politician. He knew that words alone could decide whether there was peace or war, loyalty or betrayal.

Life or death.

An old memory filtered up from the remnants of his shattered psyche.

_There's always a purpose to everything your father does._

Loki knew that his brief glimpse of hope and belonging the night before could easily be dashed, but part of him wanted to hold on to it anyway. If he was wrong, and Odin had not rejected him, then all of his pain was for nothing. If he was right, then he was nothing more than a pawn to be sacrificed whenever he outlived his usefulness.

All he knew was that he did not want to be right.

Loki was tired. Tired of looking over his shoulder every moment, anticipating betrayal. Tired of sorting truth from lie, genuine affection from theatrics. Tired of looking at his reflection and knowing that a monster lurked underneath his Aesir skin, realizing that it would one day be the death of him.

_All of these contradictions fall short of the truth. I am called the Liesmith, but I have never learned to separate truth from lie._

_I must build my own truth._

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Odin and Thor arrived a few hours later to escort Loki to the heart of Asgard and bind him. They were alone, without guards or other gawkers following in their wake. The journey was quicker than expected; Loki had pictured something like a death-march with angry Asgardians mocking him all along the way, but Thor had grabbed his upper arm and Odin merely teleported the three of them to their destination.

The cavern was dark but some sunlight filtered in through the entrance and cracks in the rock. His new prison was about half the size of the throne room, and Loki thought he could hear bats and other animals moving around behind crevices in the rock. In the center of the formation was the bright and pulsing energy of Yggdrasil, giver of life, twisting into trunk and branches and shaped like any normal tree. He could feel its energies run through his body, pulsing in time with his beating heart.

Loki knew this place well. Most Asgardians, even those with education, had never bothered to visit the heart of Asgard and the source of her power. When Loki began studying magic, especially when he began tracing hidden paths between the worlds, he found that a deeper understanding of Yggdrasil was vitally important to his success.

He never anticipated returning here as a prisoner.

Odin led the way to the center of the cavern and Thor pulled Loki along gently in his wake. Loki felt Thor's eyes on his face and could almost see the worry and guilt in his expression, but he could not look at him. Acknowledging this situation would make it seem real, and Loki preferred an ongoing nightmare over his current reality.

They stopped at the base of the Tree and Odin summoned Gleipnir, an unbreakable chain forged by the Dwarves to hold all things living and non-living without fail. Its links were thinner than ribbon and it shimmered in the meager light, and Loki knew that no amount of strength, magic or trickery would aid his escape once he was bound, even if he was at his full power.

The only way to escape its grasp was to be ripped to pieces.

Odin handed the chain to Thor, who looked back at him with surprise.

"Thor, bind your brother," Odin commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Father, I –"

"He tried to murder you, Thor. Everyone else has collected a debt from him, now it is your turn."

"I have no wish to carry out this punishment alone, father," Thor replied, his voice thick with emotion.

"We must occasionally do things we despise for the good of the Realm. This is justice, and justice is harmonious, but never easy."

"Listen to your father, Thor," Loki cut in. He was tired of Thor's cowardice and even more disgusted by his pity. Odin was right; Loki had no wish to owe his adoptive brother an outstanding debt, or to be spared punishment by him only because he was feeling merciful.

Thor looked at him through reddened eyes, and Loki stared him down steadily.

"Very well," Thor relented. "I'm sorry, brother."

Thor removed the old chains on Loki's wrists and ankles with a touch and wound Gleipnir around his arms, securing the chain to a bough of the Tree. Loki's feet did not quite touch the ground, but Thor bound his torso to the trunk of the Tree as well, so that his arms did not support his full weight.

It would be uncomfortable, but Thor had tried his best to minimize the discomfort, so Loki supposed he could not complain. Odin looked over Thor's work to make sure that Loki was bound securely.

Thor grabbed the back of his neck and Loki looked away. "Remember that we will be with you this whole time in spirit, brother, even if we cannot visit you here," Thor whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

"I know," Loki whispered back, not wanting to face his family but not wanting them to leave, either.

Odin nodded at Loki and Thor joined him, stepping back.

"Goodbye, brother," Thor murmured, and an instant later the Allfather's magic enveloped them and they were gone.

Loki forced back the tears that Thor had so freely spilled. Sentiment would not help him now.

"Goodbye," he whispered to the empty cavern, his voice echoing along the walls.

He was alone.

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Every moment that Loki waited drenched in fear seemed like a thousand years, with time stretched and warped as it had been in the Abyss. Yggdrasil's energy pulsed along his spine and down his arms, and he had no way of knowing how long it would take for Thanos to notice him.

All he knew was that Thanos _would _find him, eventually, but it was the uncertainty of _when_ that was almost as terrifying as the prospect of facing his wrath.

Loki forced himself to concentrate on his body and surroundings instead. He did not know how much time had passed since Thor bound him, but his arms were already going numb, with occasional needles of pain prickling his shoulders from supporting most of his weight. When this punishment ended, if ever, it would be weeks before he could use them normally again.

His throat burned with thirst, but Loki knew that he would not die from a lack of water – Yggdrasil's branches would sustain his life, however long he remained bound to them. The physical discomfort was part of the punishment, meant to wear down his defenses so that the _true_ agony could begin.

The light that filtered in the cavern was lessening; Loki assumed that it was now late afternoon, if he had been bound when the sun rose. He heard more movements in the crevices of the rock; animals that slumbered during the day were beginning to stir, preparing for a night of hunting their prey.

He envied the animals that the predators chose to hunt; at least they had a fighting chance at escape.

Time passed, and despite his terror Loki's exhausted mind drifted away from his immediate situation to the defeat that had caused it.

"_You lack conviction," the unassuming man accused him as his heart slowed and stopped, pierced clean through his back by the blade of his scepter. Loki had scoffed at the time, dismissive, the palms of his hands dripping with the little man's blood. He had seen his future tinged in blue, had felt the adoration of kneeling crowds and the sorrow and grudging respect of his false brother and father, who were bound at his feet. _

_He would remake this world nation by nation, and banish the violence and fear and _despair_ that were caused by life's ultimate lie, the illusion of freedom. He would bring power and prosperity to his domain, and would one day prove a superior king to even the Allfather, whose reign was tainted by lies._

_Yes, he would prove his worth, and he would destroy all who stood in his way. Even after the blue faded, Loki did not forget the glorious purpose it had revealed._

_He had not, however, counted on the tenacity of the Midgardians. Even as he lay dying, the bland-looking warrior of SHIELD managed to blast him with the primitive weapon the organization had developed after he sent the Destroyer. His body was not injured, but the fire stung his pride nonetheless._

_That was the moment his plans began to fall apart…_

Loki's mind returned abruptly to his immediate surroundings as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw a crow perched on a branch slightly above his bound arms. Loki knew that no ordinary animal could survive contact with Yggdrasil's energy; and the beast's size and blood-red eyes, brimming with intelligence and malice, only confirmed his suspicion.

Loki felt his stomach twist in fear; he hadn't noticed such an animal before, and he hoped that his senses were playing tricks on him.

The crow opened its beak and _laughed_, a high screech that froze Loki's blood in his veins. "False king, kneeling king," it cawed mockingly, flapping down to rest before Loki's eyes. "He is ready to punish you now."

Loki felt a sharp pain in his forehead as the crow began to peck at the space between his eyes; blood ran from his forehead into his eyes and down his face. Loki screamed, and a thousand vicious whispers caressed his skin, blocked his ears and surrounded him until the noise and pain made everything fade to black.

He awoke on a surface covered by jagged rock that he hoped never to see again. He knew he was high up, from the descending levels of steps that wound their way around the barren planet. He looked up, knowing what was there and dreading it, seeing a massive dark throne and hearing an echoing laugh.

"Welcome back, crawling king," the booming voice mocked, the following laugh full of dark and terrible promise.

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_a/n:_ It hasn't gotten terrible yet, but for the next few chapters there will be a lot of what can only be described as mind-rape. Fair warning! This is why my story is rated M ;)


	6. VI

_a/n:_ Thanks for the follows and reviews! Much angst ahead. :(

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Thanos's voice was whisper-soft and deadly as he listed all of Loki's failures and how profoundly he would suffer for them. Loki followed his movements with his eyes as Thanos circled around him, like a ravening wolf trapping its prey. Loki's spirit-form was forced to kneel, and although he could speak above Thanos's quiet accusations, he did not dare. It would be preferable if Thanos was visibly angry – anger could be soothed by misdirection, grand promises, and pleas for mercy, but calm threats were much harder to manage. Loki's mind raced. If he could convince Thanos that he was still useful, despite his failure, perhaps he would be spared.

But, Loki realized, Odin had anticipated that possibility. No matter what promises Loki made, he was useless to Thanos. His magic was contained and he was bound to the Tree with an unbreakable chain until he repented – and he had no idea how much remorse would satisfy the conditions of his punishment.

"I so _generously_ gifted you my army with the understanding that you would uphold your side of the bargain," Thanos continued, his voice and his footfalls soft and measured, each step caging Loki in a narrower circle, sending pulses of animal terror up his spine.

"And now I do not have the Tesseract _or_ the hive of soldiers I gave you. In addition, the cube is now in Asgard, one of the few Realms strong enough to guard and harness its power. And _you_ are powerless and condemned, unable to retrieve it, willingly or not."

Thanos spun and smiled slowly at Loki, and Loki shivered. "I am beginning to think that I have been cheated," he whispered, his eyes full of sadistic glee as he beheld Loki's fear.

Loki swallowed hard, and when Thanos did not continue, he knew that it was his turn to speak. This was a trial of sorts, and the odds were not skewed in his favor, but at least he was allowed his voice. _Which is more than I was allowed at my sentencing in Asgard_, a dark, bitter part of his heart whispered.

Loki gathered his wits, hoping that his voice would not shake, but knowing that it would all the same.

"T-the army and strategy you provided was nowhere n-near sufficient. I could not – I could not have even taken one continent with it, let alone the whole of Midgard. I was promised _victory_ for the Tesseract, not m-merely the command of the army itself," Loki began, trying to appeal to logic. If he could convince Thanos that he had not _technically_ violated the terms of their agreement, maybe he would not face additional punishment.

Which was _very_ doubtful.

Thanos smirked, amused at Loki's helplessness, and Loki continued to speak, hoping that his pathetic display would buy him time and satisfy some of Thanos's sadism.

"I did a-all that was required of me. I t-traveled to Earth and obtained the Tesseract. I took the minds of those I needed and sowed discord among the planet's heroes while c-crippling their realm's strongest system of defense. I opened a second portal in their greatest city – w-here I was promised a decisive victory by the might of the Chitauri army alone. I fulfilled my side of the bargain."

Thanos paused and tilted his head inquiringly. Loki waited with bated breath.

Suddenly Thanos leapt forward, grabbing Loki's hair and violently wrenching his head up to meet his eyes.

"Did you," he growled, as he ripped Loki's mind open.

Accompanied by white-hot tendrils of pain, images of his time in Midgard and his return to Asgard swam before his eyes.

_Questioning Barton about the planet's defense, mocking the one-eyed leader from inside of the cell designed for a beast, his subtle whispers to the scientist to build a failsafe into the portal in case of betrayal, his sinking realization that the Midgardians would never submit to his rule, dropping his scepter on the Man of Iron's tower after stabbing his brother, leaving it easily within the reach of his enemies…he would return for the Tesseract as the portal was closed…_

The agony of having his memories forcibly pulled to the forefront of his awareness for Thanos's viewing stretched on, lasting for what seemed like eons. It felt like twisted claws were ripping his awareness to shreds, searching for what was needed and throwing the rest to the side.

_Lying broken and bleeding in a crater, being muzzled and dragged back to Asgard in disgrace…appearing in the throne room and being sent to the dungeons, where he waited in fear until the fate he dreaded most was announced…the cut of the whip and the rage of Asgard's people over his betrayal…his mother's mercy, his brother's blunt but kind words and Sif's condemnation…the Allfather's arrival, his deduction of Loki's motives, the binding of his magic, and the feeling of profound _emptiness_ that resulted…the explanation that provided him with the first glimmer of hope he had felt since his entire ordeal began…_

The claws withdrew and Loki was slammed harshly back into reality, forcing back the tears that welled in his eyes and attempting to calm his staccato breathing.

"Interesting," Thanos mused, letting go of Loki's hair and resuming his pacing.

Loki watched his every move, not wanting to be surprised if Thanos tore into his mind again. He couldn't stop shaking.

"You are a traitor," Thanos sneered, "and you are responsible for your own failure. Our agreement did not state that you could abandon your mission and destroy my army in the process, as glorious a sacrifice to Death as it was. I gave you as strong an army as you needed, since you confirmed the weaknesses of the humans so many times."

"I needed time for a better strategy," Loki cut in desperately, "I know I've failed but I can still be of use–"

Thanos laughed, cold and cruel.

"You've had your chance. If you had only obeyed, you would have had Midgard to rule _and _Asgard's royal family at your mercy.But you are weak, andyou can be of no possible use to me now. Your own father abandoned you to my punishment – even your false family believes you to be beyond hope!"

Loki shook his head in desperate denial, remembering Odin's parting words.

Thanos chuckled. "Do you really believe Odin _meant_ what he said? You are only a pawn to Asgard, their frost giant war trophy. Let me tell you something of use, _would-be-king_."

Thanos knelt alongside Loki, gently stroking his cheek and hair with his massive hand. Loki shuddered, wanting to flinch away, but he was paralyzed by fear and magic.

"Odin has no plans for your redemption. You are being used as he has always intended – as a token for peace. He hopes that if he allows me to punish you, my wrath towards Asgard will be deterred."

Loki's mind raced in denial.

_Nonono he wouldn't abandon me to this fate I'm still his son IT CAN'T BE TRUE_

"If he thinks this gesture is worth anything to me, he is sadly mistaken. But of course, you _will _be punished. I will destroy your mind, even from many Realms away, and in the end it will have been for nothing. You will prove unworthy even as a sacrifice."

_Nononono please no_

"You are a sentimental fool, though you claim to despise it. I will show you exactly how unworthy you are in the eyes of those who _claim _to cherish you. The Tesseract reveals the truth, as you already know. You will meet your fate alone and un-mourned."

_Pleaseno please have mercy i'll do ANYTHING_

"And then Asgard will fall."

ooooooooooooooooo

Loki woke abruptly in his body, his heart pounding with terror. There was a sharp pain in the center of his forehead from when Thanos tore his spirit out of his body, but no blood dripped from the wound. Not long afterwards, the visions began.

After his fall and discovery by the Chitauri, he was more than half-mad from the horrors he had suffered in the Abyss and desperate for revenge. Thanos had summoned him to his throne, and Loki was dragged to meet him there by the Other and numerous Chitauri soldiers. Despite his disadvantage, he fought them as viciously as he could, tearing off Chitauri limbs and snapping the necks of whoever came close enough, until the Other sent pain searing through every nerve in his body. Although he was the rightful king of Asgard, he was still a prisoner on their world, and he thought he was being led to his execution.

If only.

Thanos spoke eloquently of alliances and power and revenge, and offered him his freedom and a means to regain his former status: after all, what was a king without a throne? If he cooperated, he would have everything he could possibly want: a realm of his own, revenge on his family for their betrayal, and recognition by all of the Realms as an able ruler in his own right.

Loki remembered the two words that had broken him and his brother's cold glare as he dropped Loki's hand and allowed him to tumble into eternity. He remembered years of pain beyond comprehension and his near-fatal escape. He remembered the fact that he was still a prisoner and that his worn body, mind and magic were no match for the power of his captors, unless he was healed. He remembered that Midgard had supposedly changed Thor and was a realm that now boasted his loyalty and protection.

He listened.

Then Thanos told him of the Tesseract, an artifact of unlimited power currently on Midgard that could also reveal the Truth. The name stuck in his mind and a flash of memory broke through his madness: walking through the throne room as a child, hand in hand with his false father and brother, admiring the Allfather's war trophies and listening intently to stories about how the _monstrous _Frost Giants were defeated.

_Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were __born __to be kings_.

Loki asked to be shown.

The Blue had overwhelmed his senses, banished his pain and despair and elevated his mind to untold heights. He felt like an eagle soaring along a current high above the ground; he knew his place and his power with absolute certainty, and the Blue showed him how to take everything he had ever wanted.

_A series of bloody battles, chaotic and glorious, with himself emerging as the decisive victor, laughing joyfully at the way the humans scrambled over themselves to bow down to a superior being: simple to achieve._

_Masses of humans kneeling at his feet, fear and adoration in their eyes: it was his destiny._

_His false father and brother witnessing the fall of Midgard as his prisoners, after the destruction of their own kingdom by his benefactor: it was their fate._

_His mother telling him that he was a worthier son than Thor could ever hope to be: it was indisputable._

_Sif ruling beside him as his Warrior-Queen, all the pride and affection that she had ever shown to Thor in her eyes when she looked at him: it was inevitable._

He had laughed and laughed with simple, childlike joy even after the blue faded, and he agreed to work with Thanos on the spot.

Until his dream was shattered shortly after he came to Midgard.

Now Thanos showed Loki more possible pasts and futures through the Tesseract, but they were very different from what he had first seen in Blue. Instead of visions of euphoria and power, he was shown pain.

Hatred.

He was shown just how alone he truly was.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

_Crowds cheered and horns blew as the army of Asgard returned victorious from the ruins of Jotunheim. Losses had been great on both sides; Asgard would mourn many young men who had won entrance into Valhalla that day, and Jotunheim was covered in the blood of her fierce warriors. _

_From her window high above, the Queen saw not only Asgard's victory but also the price that was paid for it. Warriors were sporting injuries, some more serious than others, and servants and healers carried back the shrouded corpses of the slain. There were so many, she realized, feeling grief for the mothers who would never again hold their sons._

_Her husband led the procession down the Bifrost, and she realized to her horror that he had not returned from the war whole; sometime in the battle with King Laufey, the murderer of countless mortals, he had lost an eye. He was cradling something under his cloak and she could not tell what it was – perhaps a trophy or another injury?_

_Frigga immediately went to work, ordering a lavish fast to be prepared for the warriors and calling on her most trusted healer to see to her husband's injuries._

_She wondered if she should wake Thor to celebrate his father's victory, but she decided against it. Thor should not see his father when he was covered in blood, his own and that of monsters. He was so young yet, and she hoped that her husband would not fight any more battles – if he fell, she would be left alone and Thor would grow up without knowing his father._

_Odin entered their chambers wearily before the feast, exhausted and bloody, with a strange expression on his face. Almost one of guilt._

_She ran to him and embraced him, refusing to weep over his missing eye. She had seen far more grievous injuries in the heat of battle, and had inflicted worse._

_As he returned her embrace one-armed, her attention was drawn once again to the bundle in his cloak._

"_My husband…is that what I think it is?"_

_He avoided her eyes as he held the slumbering child, who had pale skin and was small, so small, and reminded her of how Thor looked when he was born._

"_Is it yours?" she asked levelly, trying to push away her feelings of betrayal. Her husband had been gone for over a year, and surely men's needs did not leave them, even when they were away from their wives. Their marriage had been political, a means of uniting Asgard and Vanaheim, and she had known her husband to take mistresses before – but a child had never resulted from any other union, as far as she knew._

_If this child was his, it was probably half-mortal, given that Asgard's army had battled in Midgard before moving to Jotunheim._

_And Thor would have a new brother or sister, regardless of who its mother was._

"_He is not mine," Odin replied, that strange, knowing guilt once again crossing his face._

"_I found him in the Jotun temple after the last battle – abandoned and left to die, no doubt because of his size," he continued quietly. "Laufey's son – his heir by Jotun law."_

_Frigga's insides twisted in horror. A frost giant in _Asgard?_ And the monster looked so much like any Aesir child due to her husband's sorcery – it could devour many _true_ Asgardian children before anyone else discovered what it was._

"_Why," she hissed angrily, "would you bring that _creature _anywhere near our son? The offspring of that murderer? What are you _thinking?"

"_We can use him," Odin began, adopting a more political tone. "If we raise this child to be loyal to Asgard and our family, we can install him later in his father's place."_

_Frigga burned with suppressed rage; she was beginning to see the logic behind her husband's mad plan, but she did not want her son fostered with a monster._

_Odin pressed on, knowing exactly what argument would convince his furious wife. "We will have a permanent peace with Jotunheim – no more boys will fall in battle with those savages. Thousands of mothers will be spared the grief of burying their sons – including you," he continued, his gaze steady. "Laufeyson is the key to Asgard's supremacy, a dagger in the very heart of Jotunheim. We must raise him as our own."_

_Frigga shuddered in disgust at the idea. She could lie with a straight face that the misshapen monster was her own, but she would never hold it, comfort it, or love it. She would never consider it family._

"_Very well, husband. Fine. I will lie to our people for Asgard's future. And for Thor's. But if that _beast_ ever threatens our son's safety, I will end it myself."_

_Frigga turned on her heels and swept away angrily to the feast. Let a servant care for Laufey's son – she wanted nothing to do with him._

ooooooooooooooooooo

Loki hung on the Tree, his eyes unseeing, tears drying on his cheeks. Countless possible pasts and futures revealed in Blue, thousands of different directions his life could have taken or would take.

Which was the truth?

Which was the lie?

ooooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ I realize that Loki is quite the woobie so far, but he will get more BAMF moments in future chapters. Thanks for reading!


	7. VII

_a/n: _Thanks for all of the follows and helpful reviews! This next chapter will be a painful one, and perhaps Odin will reveal some of his motives… ;) I've diverged a bit from the comics when discussing Odin's past, but the MCU is its own separate universe, so my interpretation shouldn't conflict with the movies as of now.

ooooooooooooooo

The strands of fate that once wove together coherently were growing harder to decipher in recent days.

Instead of the entwined threads leading to two or three likely outcomes, they branched off into multitudes of possibilities, twisting together in thousands of opposing directions that made his Sight essentially useless. He could not discern what the universe was telling him, or what he would have to do to prepare for the storm that was coming.

For a storm _was_ coming, and the state of the universe, uncertain before an inevitable upheaval, was reflected in the Norns' chaotic weaving of fate.

Chaos.

_Or perhaps_, the Allfather mused as he gazed upon the roots of Yggdrasil, _the Norns' tapestry is perfectly clear, and is simply not meant to be Read or interfered with, even for one who can See. For all I have done to gain my Sight, I am still to be reminded that I cannot control every eventuality._

The thought was unsettling, and disturbingly familiar.

For the universe had been in this state once before, when a madman with a lust for blood that could not be quenched had sought to destroy every living thing in his path.

He did not yet have the Sight all those millennia ago, when his father was still king, but signs and portents of the impending slaughter had confounded and terrified Asgard's best sorcerers, who were unable to determine why their visions of the future were muddled and chaotic.

Magic was more widely practiced in the ages past, and Odin was often nostalgic for those days; while battle was an honorable pursuit, there was something ancient and powerful that accompanied learning the secrets of the runes, chanting spells and curses, and mapping the many dark and hidden paths of Yggdrasil.

Thoughts of magic and forbidden knowledge, of course, brought his mind immediately back to his youngest son.

When Heimdall had informed him of Loki's reappearance on Midgard a week past, alive even if obviously unwell, he had been overjoyed – his son was alive, and there would be one less death on his conscience. He would bring Loki back home and tell him that he was always worthy in his eyes – words that he should have made clearer on the Bifrost. There would be punishments and reparations, of course, but his family would be whole again in time.

As Heimdall had continued his report detailing Loki's words and actions, however, Odin's joy was clouded by a cold fury. His anger only grew as the reports continued and the death toll caused by his son rose.

He sent Huginn and Muninn to Midgard after Thor and listened carefully to their news of Loki and Thor's conflicted reunion and conversation. It was clear to him immediately that there was a greater power behind Loki's declaration of war; a power from the dark realms beyond Yggdrasil where Loki must have fallen, a power that desired the Tesseract for a much larger and bloodier conquest than Midgard.

A power that he had fought before.

As he watched events on Midgard unfold through Heimdall's reports, his ravens, and occasionally his Sight, Odin realized that Loki would attempt to cheat Thanos – once his cunning son knew that his invasion would not succeed, he would claim the Tesseract as a reward and for protection.

The chaos of the battlefield and Loki's own unhinged mental state had worked against him, however, and soon the brothers had materialized in the throne room, both injured and the youngest in chains.

Odin knew that if he attempted to speak to Loki immediately after his return, his rage would overwhelm him and drive him to take action that he would later regret. He had Loki sent to the dungeons as he determined his fate; it was best to account for all variables before making such an important decision.

He realized the answer almost immediately, but spent a day desperately considering alternative punishments, not wanting to accept what had to be done. It was a cruel fate he had sentenced his son to – crueler than most other punishments that he could have devised – but fully necessary.

In time, he hoped, Loki would understand. He did not expect Loki's forgiveness, but if he was able to redeem himself, perhaps the twisted strands of fate that he had played a part in weaving would correct themselves.

Perhaps the universe would not fall once again to bloodshed and chaos.

The Allfather had hung on the roots of Yggdrasil for nine days and nine nights in his youth; when he was no older than Loki, with the image of his father's death at the hands of Thanos fresh in his mind, he endured hardship and agony in order to win his Sight. He had vowed that with his new knowledge he would prevent the horrors that all of the Realms had suffered under Thanos again, if necessary, and he would foresee and prepare for his eventual return.

Odin knew that knowledge was painful and humbling, especially when it prevented one from seeing what was in front of him. Thor had grown as he expected, into an observant, strong warrior with a magnetic yet brash personality. He had worried at times that Thor did not have the patience or diplomacy necessary to keep the peace as he had for the last millennia, but he had never foreseen Thor reacting so recklessly to the Jotun attack in the Weapons Vault over a year ago.

And Loki…Loki had been a happy yet reserved child, his young eyes observing and measuring everything in his surroundings. It had been little surprise when he became a skilled warrior and an even better scholar. In time, he became Asgard's best sorcerer after Odin himself. Privately, Odin had always felt a fierce pride tinged with hints of unease. Magic was a necessary skill, but it was regarded warily by many Asgardians; courage in battle based on strength and strategy alone was upheld, and magic was traditionally kept separate from warfare. Loki wielded it with skill, but Odin worried that the breaking of that norm would not win him any love among the people.

Magic also opened doorways that would otherwise remain closed, and perhaps should remain closed. Odin knew this well; in his lifelong quest for knowledge, he had learned many things he would rather forget.

At some point, Loki had grown apart from his family, long before he discovered his parentage. Perhaps he had always felt different, and now Odin wondered if his differences were innate. He had hoped to protect Loki from that very sentiment by concealing the truth, but his deception only compounded the problem.

And now, due to his blindness, the fate of the universe was once again poised on a precipice.

It was out of his hands now. He could mobilize Asgard's defenses in preparation for an attack, and warn other realms to do the same, but it may all be in vain if Loki did not gain the knowledge that Odin hoped he would during his punishment.

If he failed to redeem himself, and failed to gain his own Sight, then he would be forever lost in delusion and madness.

_No_, Odin reassured himself, _it will not come to that. Loki is strong, and resourceful, and he will prevail yet again._

_Oh Loki, my son_, Odin lamented, feeling the weight of all of his years, _what are you seeing now?_

ooooooooooooooo

_He stumbled across the barren landscape, his boots kicking up clouds of dust as he trudged purposefully forward. Midgard's bright sun was high above the horizon, deceptively and mockingly cheerful. It was ironic, he thought, that there was so much natural light on a day when few were left alive to enjoy it._

_For he had witnessed the humans burn each other alive with very little prompting. A nation fell here and there to his rule, and after they surrendered, its leaders and people were declared treasonous to their very species. From then on, it took only a whisper of suspicion, rumors of plans of an attack on this day, or the assassination of a leader, and the humans used The Fire without hesitation against their own kind._

Nuclear weapons, _he thought, recalling the humans' term, _it was Barton who first warned me about them.

_But Barton was no more, like the majority of his race. As the Sickness had gradually taken Loki, like it had more swiftly finished off the remaining human survivors, his magic had weakened. He could no longer control his Hawk's mind with the scepter, or extend his life through sorcery. Barton had left his service voluntarily, and Loki did not have the will to stop him. Before he left to die, he had whispered the words that still ran through Loki's mind incessantly._

"_You won, you sick bastard," he had said softly, with a calm finality. "King of a dead planet. Remember when you're kneeling on the ground choking on your own fucking blood that we preferred _this _over kneeling to _you_." _

_Loki had found Barton lying motionless at the foot of Natasha Romanoff's makeshift grave a few days later, dead from a gunshot wound to the head._

_He found the gun lying several feet away in the grass, close to Barton's outstretched hand._

_So he journeyed on. _

_He took account of his kingdom; of the craters and scorch marks that marred the once-vibrant lands, of the small colonies of survivors dying from The Sickness, of the rising oceans and acid rains._

_He was called "monster" and cursed at in more languages than he could count, by people who were dying already and no longer feared his wrath._

_Sometimes he silenced them anyway, silenced them forever._

_Because who were _they _to call _him _"monster?" Humans, no more than _ants, _who slaughtered their own kind without a trace of passion, without a hint of remorse?_

I am a king, _he thought spitefully. _I am exactly the King they deserve.

It would have ended better, had they only obeyed….

I wished only to help.

I never wanted this!

_Anguished thoughts harried his fevered mind day and night, just as The Sickness slowly destroyed his body from the inside out. Sleep rarely found him, and when it did, his dreams were invaded by horrors. His skin became waxy and translucent, and he constantly coughed up blood. His eyes were slowly failing him. In time, he was aware, perhaps in several months, he would lose his vision entirely._

_He could leave, he knew. Carefully conserve his waning energy to travel to a realm where he could find ingredients for healing and perhaps aid. But something in him made him stay even as his body broke down and his odds of survival dropped – was it guilt? Pride?_

"_A true king never abandons his people even in the face of death," a familiar voice from a snatch of memory lectured to him. What would the owner of that voice say to him now, as he walked haltingly, unsteadily, over his dead kingdom? No doubt he would still say "No, Loki."_

_His breath scraped unevenly past his teeth as he trudged on. Broken buildings were beginning to dot the empty terrain. Although the landscape was nearly unrecognizable now, he knew the site of the once-proud city, the site of his victory, like the back of his hand._

_Here he had hoped to begin to forge his reign. He had rent the skies and unleashed death, that was true, but it had been _necessary_. The humans needed to be _shown_ and _guided_ –and now it was all for naught, all for naught…_

_The Man of Iron had never returned from the portal after saving the city from The Fire the first time, nearly defeating Loki's army. The Fire had returned again later, of course, and it had claimed The Beast, who was then a thrall in Loki's service. Banner's body was strong but his mind was vulnerable and the most easily corrupted._

_He captured the Captain, the Man Out of Time, and executed him shortly after he had taken the city. Loki admired the man's spirit, and he had granted him a quick and painless death by his own scepter, head off the shoulders, and had spared him the indignity of becoming his thrall._

_His final words, like Barton's words and those of so many other ghosts, still ran through Loki's mind._

"_You don't have to do this." The Captain's eyes had not even held any hate, only pity and understanding. "You'll never win respect for yourself by breaking weaker people down. We'll fight you as long as we live and breathe. You can still go back h–" Loki had cut off his stinging words, and his head, before he could finish his sentence._

_The read-haired assassin had fled, not bound to honor like her patriotic Captain. Once Loki had re-gained Barton's mind and knowledge, however, she was captured easily enough within some weeks. She did not go quietly, though; when Loki found her about to turn her weapon on herself, the ground was littered with the bodies of his new servants._

_Loki had handed his Hawk his most precious crystal blade and ordered him to carry out the promise that he had made Romanoff on SHIELD's flying fortress. _

_She had not screamed, even as Barton slowly ripped her apart and enjoyed her, but there was no mistaking the horror in her eyes; Loki had broken her. It was justice, he had thought at the time, justice for standing against him, for preaching redemption while her ledger was still dripping with blood._

_The future had looked so bright and promising those first few months, before it irrevocably fell apart._

_And now, as Loki stood over his dead capitol, lost in his memories, thunder crashed and lightning split the sky. _

Well,_ he mused, unsurprised, _now the Thunderer returns. For all your supposed bravery, Thor, you could not bear to witness your beloved planet fall, to know that you failed to protect it, that I would possess something that you could not. But it matters not now, does it, brother…

_Thor landed a short distance away from him, radiating fury and resolve. Loki began to laugh, loud, desperate, and insane, and Thor waited for him to finish, his eyes not betraying pain or sympathy at all._

_Interesting._

_As Loki's mirth broke off into a low chuckle, Thor began to speak, his voice controlled and colder than it had ever been before. "I warned you of this, Loki. This madness would never have ended with your rule. You caused all of this desolation– the Would-Be-King," Thor sneered, his features twisting in contempt._

"_**I am a king!"**__ Loki screamed. Thor's words cut him like daggers – it'snottrue it'snottrue it'snottrue…_

"_No," Thor responded icily, "__I__ am a king. __Your__ king. And I have arrived to deliver your judgment."_

_Loki laughed. "__You__ are king of Asgard? So the Allfather saw it fit to crown you even after your failure here? He is even blinder than I imagined."_

"_The Allfather is dead," Thor replied bluntly. "Killed defending Asgard from Thanos. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, traitor?"_

_Loki's breath hitched. Thanos promised him that when Asgard fell, he would spare his false brother and father for Loki's justice. Thanos had never returned after Loki delivered the Tesseract – and with the chaos here, he had forgotten…_

"_So you are here to execute me? To make me pay for my treason in blood?"_

_Thor smiled, slow and cruel. Loki felt a shiver of fear run up his spine – this wasn't Thor, this broken man wasn't the brother he both loved and hated. What had happened to him?_

"_Death is far too kind for you."_

_Loki scoffed. "Torture, then. You will find, _brother, _that I have grown quite accustomed to pain of late. I have already suffered horrors beyond anything you could devise, a thousand times over."_

_Thor laughed, slow and unhinged, sounding eerily like Loki. Loki shuddered – was this broken madness what Thor saw whenever he looked at him?_

"_Here on Midgard, Jane tells me," Thor began, his voice laced with controlled malice, "the humans used to have places of recreation called zoos. All sorts of curious beasts were caged there, for interested humans to gawk at and study."_

_Loki's blood ran cold._

"_We all deliberated on your punishment, you know, since you betrayed us all. And then Sif had an idea, the brilliant idea –" Thor broke off laughing again, and Loki retreated a few paces, his heart hammering in his chest. _

"_Asgard does not have a pet Jotun to gawk at. You will have to be reduced to your true form, of course, so that the people left will know what kind of monster you are when you are caged. We will heal you so that you do not die quickly. This is how you will spend the rest of your days," Thor finished, his smile a gash of sadism on his face. _

_Loki backed away further, panicking, unable to draw enough air to fill his ailing lungs. He could end his own life now, but if Thor tried to stop him, he was too weak to fight. "I'd sooner die! Execute me however you wish! Brother, __**please**__…"_

"_You are no brother of mine. My brother died in the Abyss," Thor spat, a cold finality in his voice. "You are a monster and shall be treated as one."_

_Thor removed a pair of shackles and a muzzle that he had been carrying with him in his bag. Loki knew that they would suppress what little magic he had left, and he would be unable to speak, silenced forever like a rabid dog…_

_He broke into a run, unable to gather enough magic to teleport, knowing that escape was impossible. Thor laughed and tackled him a second later, his rough hands clapping chains on Loki's wrists, reaching for the muzzle…_

_Loki summoned the knife that Thanos had gifted him instinctively. Its blade was tipped in a corrosive venom that would weaken and kill even an immortal with Thor's power. With the last of his strength, he drove it into his once-brother's heart…_

_Thor gasped, clutching at his chest, and Loki scrambled away from him, his hands shaking, tears running down his face._

_Thor collapsed and sprawled in the dirt, breathing heavily, and Loki crawled over to him._

"_I'm sorry brother," Thor whispered. "I was angry, too many of your tricks…forgive me?"_

"_Of course, brother," Loki replied, his voice breaking. "I love you, and I'm sorry. Be at peace now."_

_Thor smiled weakly, a dim reflection of his old self. Once his breathing slowed and stopped, and he stared blankly up at nothing, Loki closed his brother's eyes forever. Then he wrenched the knife from Thor's heart and replaced it in his own._

_Loki lay down to die alongside his brother._

ooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ Poor Loki! Next chapter will include some of his perspective (more lucid, however), and I will explore what Thor is up to right now while Loki is being punished. Reviews are always welcome!


	8. VIII

_a/n: _Thanks for the follows and helpful reviews!

ooooooooooooooooo

The sun was beginning to rise over Asgard when Thor woke from his fitful sleep, promising a pleasant and mild day, perfect for hunting, training, and planting crops. Birds were chirping in the trees on the palace grounds and cheerful Asgardians greeted one another, ready to begin another busy day.

It was all obscenely wrong, as far as Thor was concerned.

He sighed and grudgingly got up, knowing that he would get no more sleep after his most recent awakening. He ate, bathed, and dressed, going through the motions of his daily routine without paying them much mind. Outside, storm clouds gathered, threatening rain, and lightning flashed ominously across the sky.

Thor grinned. He was used to the weather conforming to his moods by his age, but he was especially glad to see the day's cheer partially dampened. Perhaps it was childish, but he couldn't – and wouldn't – help it.

As he stalked down to the main hall, servants and guards gave him a wide berth, and greeted him more cautiously than usual or kept silent.

Thor would have welcomed a conversation, because he did not really have a destination in mind. He could spar in the training grounds, or go riding, or join his father in the throne room as he held court, but he was forbidden from visiting the one place that he wanted and needed to be.

Abruptly making a decision, Thor turned and headed towards the throne room. He had witnessed the Allfather's daily governance too many times to count throughout his youth, but since he would be taking Odin's place in time, he figured that more observation would not hurt.

And if it kept his mind occupied and distracted, all the better.

The court was just beginning as he stepped in and took his place beside Odin, who barely glanced at him. After the first case was introduced, a convoluted land dispute involving two farmers and their inheritances, Thor's mind began to wander.

He knew that he would have to understand and rule on cases that made it past the lower courts, even if they were petty and dull, but he had always disliked this aspect of kingship. As the farmers carried on, accusations flying back and forth, Thor wondered how his father managed to do this almost every day. Holding court and arranging diplomatic meetings with other realms were no doubt _necessary_, but Thor was still unsure how he would manage the patience for these activities when he was king.

_Even Loki finds this tedious,_ Thor reassured himself. _I wonder if he thought about this before he sought to rule Midgard._

Wincing inwardly, remembering that there would no doubt be many delegates from other realms contacting Asgard in the future questioning Loki's recent misdeeds, Thor tried to refocus his attention on the case. Odin ruled heavily in favor in one farmer, finding the other's claim to be baseless, but clearing the second of most of his debt. Both bowed before leaving. One seemed satisfied and the other less so, but Thor thought that the ruling was fair, taking into account both parties' perspectives.

A murder case was heard next, which was somewhat more interesting – the defendant claimed self-defense, but his story was based only on his word and he had no confirming witnesses. Heimdall was not called in, so Thor assumed that he had no testimony to provide. Thor was torn – a man should be able to defend himself even if it meant killing his attacker, but he could not discern if the accused murderer was telling the whole truth.

In the end, after about an hour of testimony from the man and his accusers, Odin ordered him to pay weregild to the dead man's family. If he did not pay the surviving kin to the best of his ability, he would be sent to the gallows.

Again, Thor saw wisdom in this ruling – perhaps the payment would satisfy the family of the deceased, and a potentially innocent man would not be executed. Still, Thor knew that some cases did end with a death sentence, and that capital judgments were a more somber burden that came with being a king.

Killing on the battlefield was one duty that was upheld, and even said to be glorious, but the thought of killing a defenseless prisoner, even if he was a murderer, turned his stomach.

_Father no doubt struggled with this when I brought Loki back_, Thor realized, his mind returning involuntarily again to his captive brother. _How does a king remain impartial when punishing his own son?_

He recalled again the fear and despair in Loki's eyes when Odin had sentenced him to be bound to the Tree. Thor had not fully understood his brother's desperation at the time; Loki's mind would be unguarded without his magic, of course, but what could his former allies hope to do to him from realms away that was worse than what they could do in person?

Still, the haunted look in his brother's eyes would not leave him.

_Perhaps Loki would have rather been executed_, Thor realized, his heart sinking. _But father _did_ give him a way to redeem himself…and he is so terrified of this…Thanos….that he paid it no mind._

The name tugged at the back of Thor's memory, but he could not remember ever consciously hearing it. As the morning cases were concluded, and his father urged him to go do something more productive than stand around and stare into space, Thor decided to learn more about the name that caused his new unease.

He knew that he could ask the Allfather for more information about Thanos, since he was sure Odin would know who Loki's tormenter was, but he was wary of receiving a denial or a partial answer. Odin usually supported his sons in gaining knowledge of all kinds, but over the years, Thor had noticed that there were some subjects that Odin was reluctant to speak about.

One of them was his father, Bor. Thor had gathered that his grandfather, a founder of Asgard and its first king, was a fierce warrior who had died on the field of battle several millennia ago. Normally, a warrior's death in a family was a source of pride – while the family still grieved, of course, entrance into Valhalla was also a cause for celebration.

But Odin never elaborated on his father's life or his mysterious death beyond relating a few basic facts. This was extremely odd, especially in Asgard where ancestry was so respected. Thor had always wondered if there was something shameful about his grandfather's death in battle – but with so little information, he could only speculate.

Another subject that his father avoided was how he learned sorcery in his youth. Thor had heard rumors of how Odin had walked down dark paths to the very roots of Yggdrasil, where he sacrificed himself to himself for knowledge, but his father had never confirmed or denied those whispers. Perhaps he shared the truth with Loki, since Loki also had an interest in magic.

Even if Odin answered his inquires in full, however, Thor did not always want to be dependent on his father for information. If he was to rule one day, he would have to teach and counsel himself in many matters. In addition, he would rather explore impartially first on his own, before hearing Odin's interpretation. Although Thor knew that his father had meant Loki no harm by concealing his parentage, the lies that Odin had told to protect his secret for over a thousand years had pushed Loki into madness.

If he were Loki in this situation, Thor realized with some reluctance, the first place he would go for answers would be the library.

He left the throne room, noticing that the weather was beginning to clear. Perhaps now that he had a direction, something into which he could channel his anger and anxiety –

"Thor!"

Hearing a familiar voice, he turned and saw Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral, and Sif. They were in full armor with weapons on hand, no doubt ready for an afternoon of sparring.

"My friends!"

Volstagg laughed and clapped him on the back, glad to see his friend in a better mood than he had been since his return.

"Come sparring with us," Fandral urged, "now that the weather has improved." He glanced past the columns outside, as if he was afraid that Thor's storm would return, now that he had mentioned it out loud.

Normally, Thor would readily agree, but today he had a mission. "I'm sorry, my friends…I was actually headed for the library."

"The _library_ over sparring," Fandral exclaimed in disbelief. "What business do you have there?"

"I wish to research certain events in Asgard's past that may prove…relevant in the future. My father wishes me to learn more," Thor half-lied, knowing that any mention of Loki would only earn him looks of pity. Besides, maybe his father _did _wish him to take a more active role in learning about Loki's allies – perhaps that was why he had been intentionally vague on the subject.

"If you insist, Thor," Volstagg replied cheerfully. "Feel free to join us when you're finished!"

Volstagg and Fandral set off for the palace grounds, and Hogun joined them, exchanging a glance with Sif before he left. Sif remained behind, crossing her arms over her chest and avoiding Thor's eyes.

"What troubles you, my friend?" He had an idea of what troubled her, and he knew that she would disapprove of his half-truth.

"Thor…" Sif began, her voice full of sympathy, "If you cannot tell me your intentions, I understand, but if you can…this is about Loki, is it not?"

Thor sighed and shifted restlessly, losing the will to lie to her again. "Yes, it is."

She nodded. "I have never known you to turn down sparring for an afternoon of reading. That was more of your brother's preference."

He smiled fondly, remembering having to drag Loki more often than not to the training ring.

"Yes. And I do not wish to take his place in that regard! I simply wish to…understand more about this part of his punishment."

Sif looked away nervously. "You cannot help him, Thor. It is forbidden – Loki must fend for himself. He has to face the consequences of his actions."

"I know," Thor responded quietly, "And I will not aid him. But he….he was so terrified when we bound him. I wish to know why."

"Will knowing bring you any peace of mind? You still cannot interfere. He has caused you so much pain already – he has betrayed us all. If he wishes to return, he must decide for himself."

Thor bristled, but his anger was quickly replaced by sorrow. She was not wrong, but he could not so easily give up on his brother, even after their recent quarrels.

"I cannot interfere with his punishment, even if I wished to. I am concerned for Loki, that is true, but this goes beyond him. "

Thor glanced around to ensure that nobody had overheard their conversation.

"Will you join me?"

ooooooooooooooooo

Thor was certain that Loki would have no trouble navigating the library's seemingly endless shelves of books, even after a quick search yielded no results. Thor had spoken "Thanos" to the seidr – controlled machine, but the automaton found no direct match.

So he grudgingly browsed on his own, taking a stack of history books to a nearby corner table. A bewildered Lady Sif followed.

"Thor, who is Thanos?"

He looked up, debating whether or not to tell her, and decided to inform his best friend in full; if he could not trust her, he could not trust anyone.

"One of Loki's allies. He told me after the flogging, that…that Thanos would destroy his mind…" Thor trailed off, his voice heavy with pain.

Sif shivered, suddenly feeling cold, and sat down across from Thor, taking his hands in her own. Like everyone she had spoken to or seen the past few days, she agreed that Loki deserved a harsh punishment. He was a traitor and a murderer, and he had even tried to kill Thor, his own brother, who was dear to her…but to destroy his mind, his greatest asset? To allow him to live, but as an empty shell?

Whether he deserved it or not, it seemed too cruel. Her anger flared again, mingling with her pity; while Loki would pay the highest price, his actions had once again caused Thor pain.

"But it is not certain, is it?" She began cautiously, hoping to reassure Thor, and to some extent, though she would never admit it to anyone, herself. "The Allfather still hopes for Loki's redemption."

"Yes. My mother says there is always a reason for everything he does…." Thor trailed off, his expression brightening somewhat. "Thank you, my friend."

Sif frowned and sat back, lost in thought. Like Thor, she was starting to believe that there were important pieces of this puzzle missing. If Odin still hoped to redeem Loki, then why sentence him to such a cruel fate? Why would Loki betray his family so completely in the first place?

"My prince…If I may ask…"

Thor leaned forward. "What is it, Sif?"

She hesitated, unsure of how to express her contradictory thoughts.

"Why did Loki do all of this, putting aside his madness? Betray Asgard? I always believed him to be envious of you, but I never thought before that he wished you harm. And allying with the Chitauri? His actions on Midgard went beyond a mere jealous grudge…And then when I spoke to him last, he said…"

"What did he say? Please tell me."

She hesitated, not wishing to cause her friend any more pain. But surely he already knew what she would say next.

"He said that you are not true brothers," she whispered, struggling to meet his eyes. "Was he lying?"

Thor stiffened and flinched, as though in pain. She opened her mouth to apologize for forgetting her place, for causing him more agony –

"He is adopted," Thor responded, sounding distant. "The son of a…brave warrior that my father defeated in battle. Loki had no other home, so my father took him in to…to honor his father."

Sif waited with bated breath.

"We are not brothers in blood," Thor continued after a pause. "But he _is_ my brother, and a member of my family, in every way that counts," he finished firmly.

"Of course he is," she agreed quickly. Another idea occurred to her. "Did he always know?"

"No, he did not. He found discovered the truth right around my banishment."

Sif exhaled slowly, trying to piece together what Thor had told her. Perhaps Loki's new knowledge that he was not Odin's son in blood had sparked his madness when he took the throne…but why would it? Clearly, his parents loved him as their own, and his brother was loyal to him.

But she also knew that Loki was slightly younger than Thor and herself, still an infant right at the end of the war with the Jotuns. Asgard had not fought any other realm but Jotunheim…and Thor had said that Odin took Loki to honor his father, a defeated warrior…

Loki was not Asgardian, she realized suddenly. But he could not be Jotun either, that was clearly impossible. Perhaps he was of Vanaheim? Some rogue Vanir had aided the Jotun, still bitter over Odin's defeat of their realm long ago. It would also explain why Loki had such a talent for magic – magic was widely practiced by the Vanir, including Queen Frigga.

_He felt like the enemy_, Sif realized, _because of his father's actions in the war. And learning that he was not of Asgard, as he believed his whole life…_

It didn't explain his betrayal in full, but Sif was reluctant to ask Thor for more information. His expression had already closed off, and he was sifting through the stack of books, looking for one to start reading.

"Do you think Thanos is known to Asgard?" Sif asked, eager to change the subject.

"Possibly. I have a feeling my father knows who he is, and perhaps fought him long ago. In any case, he is a threat again."

"Then I will help you in your search," she vowed, grabbing a thick tome.

Thor looked up and smiled, and her heart skipped a beat. "Thank you, my friend. Also…if you will not share what I told you today with anyone…"

"I swear I will not," she replied firmly. "Your brother's secrets are safe with me."

As she sifted through the old book, Sif reminded herself that she was doing this for Thor, and for Asgard, and not for Loki. Even if feasts seemed emptier without him sitting alongside Thor, even if she occasionally missed his pranks and jokes that she had always outwardly rolled her eyes at, and his calm presence in battle…he had brought this on himself. They could not help him now.

And now perhaps Asgard faced a larger threat from Thanos due to Loki's actions. What did Loki see when he fell, and what evil bargains did he make in order to survive?

_Loki, you ungrateful traitor_, she fumed silently, _what darkness have you brought on us now?_

ooooooooooooooooo

_He ran through the twisting maze, out of breath, but unwilling to stop for even a moment. Blue and red were everywhere he looked, and he could not turn away. Crimson eyes, sharp claws, and the azure skin of a monster followed him wherever he went. The beast of his childhood nightmares, of servants' tales meant to frighten him into behaving, "Don't wander off alone, my prince, or a frost giant will find you…"_

_But the monster had found him now, and there was no escape, for he _was_ the monster._

_He had tried to shatter the mirrors that lined the trap long ago, but found that he could not, for they had been enchanted by Odin himself. They warped and distorted his already monstrous features, and he begged the Norns for mercy, knowing that it would never be granted. _

_Monsters were not worthy of forgiveness. They deserved only suffering and death._

_And he could not even close his blood-red eyes…_

_Loki stopped running, sliding down the wall in exhaustion. If he could only close or cover his eyes, if he could only rest for a moment without having to see his true nature reflected before him…_

_But Odin had enchanted his eyes as surely as he had the walls of his prison. Loki still remembered his false father's words at his sentencing._

"_You are no longer my son, and it is clear now that you never were. You rejoiced in the suffering you caused on Midgard, as only a Jotun would. If you enjoy being a monster so, Loki, why do you still hide your true nature? Surely you do not need your Asgardian disguise any longer!"_

_He felt a fresh stab of pain at the old memory, clutching his head in his hands, willing it to go away. How long had he been here? Why wasn't he dead yet?_

_His eyes, he realized with a start. His eyes were the problem. If only he did not have to look, to _see_, then he could die here in peace._

_Loki remembered reading a story, a tale of Mythology from Midgard. A man who was given a cruel fate by the gods and sought to thwart his destiny ended up fulfilling it anyway – and to escape the horrors he had brought about, he put out his own eyes. _

_Loki looked down at his sharp Jotun claws. He had no pin or knife, but his own twisted hands would serve his purpose well._

_But could he do it?_

_Loki pictured how Odin would rage when he discovered that Loki escaped his punishment, and the dismay of the Asgardians that his torture ended too quickly. _

_He had faced worse pain before, and it was worth it, if only to spit at Odin one last time. _

_Bracing himself, Loki raised his hands to his eyes – _

He woke abruptly, screaming, a stabbing pain still searing through his ruined eyes. But he could still see, he realized, even as he tore his vocal cords with cries of pain. Strange, indeed.

Walls and a ceiling of stone, with light filtering in through cracks in the rock.

Bats flapping furiously back to their hiding places, frightened out of their hunt by his agony.

A thin, glowing chain wrapped around his body, binding him to the pulsating, living surface behind him.

He gasped for breath, unable to scream any longer, lost in confusion.

Where were the mirrors? The evidence of his monstrosity? Why wasn't he blind?

Loki felt a stab of panic – what new delusion was this? Or _was_ it merely a delusion – he had never wondered if he was dreaming before, on a ruined Midgard, in the hall of mirrors…

His memory came flooding back, as welcome and comforting as a breath of fresh air after hours underwater. Yes, Odin had sentenced him to these visions, to Thanos's justice. None of it was real, none of it…

He laughed hoarsely, joyfully, pain grating through his torn vocal cords. Yes, yes, it was all a nightmare, now he realized, now he could rest…

Loki slumped in his chains, exhausted, though his bound arms still found no relief.

But his mind found no true rest. He remembered Thanos's taunts before he had been consumed by the Tesseract's nightmares– had Odin truly lied about redemption? Was he merely a sacrifice to buy peace with Asgard? It would be dishonorable for the Allfather to lie during a sentencing hearing, but he had lied to Loki all of his life. What was once more?

And it would explain everything he saw through the Tesseract, all of those possible realities – deep down, they all thought him a monster. Odin would give anything to protect his _true_ son, Loki knew, but would he protect a stolen relic and risk war, a relic whose entire purpose had hinged on avoiding war in the first place?

It didn't matter, Loki remembered – Thanos promised that Asgard would fall anyway.

_This respite will end soon_, he realized,_ once Thanos turns his attention back to my unmaking._

He was grateful for the respite, but he knew that he needed a strategy by the time the visions returned. The Tesseract's power seemed all-consuming, and his mind had been unable to separate truth from lie.

Loki shuddered – it had all seemed so _real._ How could he hope to defend against it?

How could he strengthen his mind to resist the delusions?

Thanos's training emerged from his memory unbidden.

After Loki had pledged his loyalty, Thanos sought to focus and strengthen his mind for his mission, which had been shattered by agony in the Abyss. Thanos had not attempted to take away or lessen the memories that haunted Loki, but rather to teach his new ally how to endure - and thrive on - pain.

As Loki was shown other worlds through the power of the Tesseract, worlds of both beauty and horror, the Chitauri slowly flayed the skin off of his arms and back.

As Thanos set him against the strongest Chitauri warriors in battles to the death, he injected poison into Loki's veins – a poison that did not kill him, but left him in the purest of agonies until his opponents were defeated, and he was drenched in their blood, crushing their skulls beneath his heel.

As Thanos taught him magic unknown to the Nine Realms, magic that harnessed the power of dark energy and the void of space itself, he set Loki's every nerve aflame, forcing him to succeed even in the face of pain comparable to that which he had faced in the Abyss.

He had not always appreciated it at the time, but he saw Thanos's wisdom now.

For if he could be taught to endure physical pain, surely he could learn to recognize and endure Thanos's mental torture.

Loki smiled slowly, widely, licking the blood from his torn lips. He would outwit Thanos and his punishments and then win his freedom somehow –he was one of the greatest sorcerers in Asgard, second to only Odin himself, and he had gained new knowledge after his fall. Binding his magic was no permanent solution. The chain he was bound in could be an obstacle, as it was rumored to be unbreakable – but had it ever been fairly tested? Loki planned to find out.

Once he escaped, he would bide his time and then destroy Thanos utterly, when the moment was right.

But first, Odin and Thor would face his righteous judgment.

ooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ I hope my BAMF Loki is somewhat in character. Perhaps things will start to look up for him soon – or is he just delusional? And what will Thor learn about Thanos? Reviews are always welcome!


	9. IX

CHAPTER IX

ooooooooooooooooo

Loki concentrated harder than he ever had before in his life, struggling with all of his will to rip apart the Tesseract's illusion and return to reality.

After his vow to escape Thanos's punishment and the Tree (_hours? days? weeks?) _ago, Loki had started to fight the visions, making slow and intermittent progress.

He had been discouraged at first. He would slip into another horrifying vision of an alternate reality without realizing it, and then wake later in the cave, disoriented and terrified.

Once he remembered where he was and why he was bound, however, his true terror began. Was he doomed to be lost in delusion, with only brief moments of sanity, for all eternity? Would he be Thanos's plaything until Asgard burned around him or withered to dust eons later? The brief moments of wakefulness and clarity almost made his punishment worse – he _knew_ now that he was being unmade, and that he could do very little to stop it.

It was in these moments that his hatred for Odin, Thor, and the rest of Asgard burned stronger than he ever dreamed possible.

Loki used his rage to endure. While the Tesseract's delusions perhaps occupied only seconds in real time, in Loki's mind, each new horror seemed to span days, weeks, or longer. He focused his mind entirely on his senses and surroundings when he woke, hoping to be able to determine when a vision would begin again.

He meditated, learning the feel and state of the traces of magic that Thanos had left behind to enslave his mind and senses.

It seemed nearly impossible without his magic to aid him; he felt like a novice again, learning to sense basic energies before he could practice a spell.

But slowly, if not surely, there were some changes in his perceptions. He was starting to recognize when a new illusion was about to begin – there was a falling sensation as his mind was overwhelmed with Blue before he was immersed in a new nightmare. When a vision ended, he grew accustomed to his surroundings more quickly.

Sometimes, after being caught in a vision for a length of time, it would begin to seem dreamlike and unreal; noises and sensations from the outside world would filter in, such as the calls of animals or the pain in his shoulders and the thirst in his throat.

And now, for the first time, he actively fought back to end a vision that he knew was a lie.

As he tried to claw through his current nightmare (_Laufey standing over Odin, bringing his blade of ice down before Loki could react, a Jotun warrior freezing Frigga alive as she tried to fight_) he remembered that he was Loki, son to no one, and that now, at least, he certainly would not raise a hand to save Odin's life – but perhaps Frigga's.

In any case, the feeling of horror at seeing his false father murdered fell flat, and during the vision, he recalled for an instant that Odin had abandoned him twice: once on the Bifrost, and again to Thanos. The flash of insight was not clear, but clouded, like seeing through a thick fog.

But it was enough to make him remember – and to help him realize that he was not truly living a nightmare.

Loki focused on his body and the Tree, hoping to break the vision by waking up as if it were a normal dream.

But no matter what he attempted, he was still trapped in the Tesseract's illusory world. He saw Odin's death and Frigga (_still my mother_), frozen alive as if through his actual eyes. He knew now that it was a lie, but the death that filled the chamber seemed no less real.

_Laufey stood, spreading his bloody hands in exultation as he looked down upon his dead nemesis. Loki stared on in shattered shock, unable to believe the horrors before his eyes, unable to accept that his schemes had turned against him so completely…_

_With a shaking hand, Loki prepared to use Gungnir, to avenge the father and mother whose deaths he had planned with his _real _father…_

(Just mother, Loki thought from a distance. Odin got what he deserved.)

_A blade of ice pressed against his throat, and a powerful arm twisted his wrist until he was forced to drop Odin's spear. _

_One of Laufey's guards must have hidden in the shadows, unknown to Loki. But why hadn't he sensed the giant enter the chamber?_

_Loki felt a profound, but familiar, chill creep across his skin. As he looked down at his arm, he saw to his horror that his Asgardian disguise was melting away in favor of his true Jotun form._

_The frost giant holding him jumped in surprise, but not enough to break his grip on his prisoner._

_Laufey finally looked away from Odin at Loki, his face impassive, unsurprised. Loki could not stop staring at the horror that was his true skin._

_Through eyes blurred with tears and the sound of his own harsh breathing, Loki felt a rough hand jerk his chin up._

_He was looking into blood-red eyes, eyes that he must have inherited, eyes that carefully scrutinized his face._

_Loki felt a clawed hand, gentler than he expected, run over the lines that marred his blue skin._

"_These are my family's markings," Laufey said quietly. "It appears that Odin stole more than our Casket that day."_

_Loki's anger flared at the mention of his murdered father, and he spat in Laufey's face._

(What a fool I am here. Fighting for the man who abandoned me twice.)

(Both of them did.)

_The frost giant restraining him swore, twisting Loki's arm. He felt the blade of ice dig into the skin of his throat, drawing a trickle of blue-black blood._

_Laufey smiled slightly, not even bothering to wipe away Loki's saliva._

"_I always wondered what became of the son that I left in our temple," Laufey continued, his tone contemplative. "When I returned for you after our loss on the battlefield, your guards – my most trusted warriors – were all dead. But you were missing, nowhere to be found in all of Jotunheim."_

"_**Liar**__," Loki snarled, attempting in vain to escape the frost giant's hold. "You left me to die – my father told me so –"_

"_Odin is not your father," Laufey snapped, losing his calm demeanor. He smiled, his teeth sharp and cruel, as he gestured at Loki's Jotun skin. "As anyone now can clearly see. And can you still trust Odin's words, after he has hidden everything that you __**truly**__ are?"_

"_I am not a monster like you."_

_Laufey shook his head sadly, his eyes seeing past Loki's face and finding the broken child within. Loki was confused by Laufey's grief – he knew that monsters felt anger and bloodlust, as Laufey clearly did, but he never realized that they were capable of more complex emotions such as sadness. It made no sense, in light of what Loki was always taught about the Jotun._

_Laufey stood again, towering over Loki. "I knew that you were disguised from the moment you entered my realm – the Allfather was not the only one adept in magic," Laufey gloated, noting Loki's surprise. "I remembered my lost son, and I thought – could it be? Would Odin dare? The __**honorable**__ ruler, stealing a prince and turning him against his own kind? It appears that my suspicions were correct."_

_Loki's head spun. He and Odin had only discussed his true parentage once, and Odin told him that he was "abandoned, suffering, left to die." He had decidedly __**not **__mentioned a struggle in the temple where he was rescued. Were Laufey's words true, or was his biological father manipulating him? If so, why would he need to, when Loki was at his mercy?_

_Loki realized that Laufey's magic far exceeded his own, and that he had probably concealed additional warriors from Loki when he arrived through the Bifrost. His father – by blood, at least – was a powerful sorcerer and a clever strategist. Were all of the Jotun so skilled at magic and deception? Would Laufey and his warriors be able to take the Casket on their own?_

_Impossible. He was the king of Asgard, and he controlled the Destroyer._

_Loki made up his mind. He knew what his loyalties were, despite Laufey's words of acceptance. Even if he was Jotun by blood, he was Asgardian in spirit. He would avenge his family and destroy the race of __**monsters **__once and for all._

(But don't fall this time, whatever you do)

"_Only the king of Asgard or those he permits can enter the throne room, take the Casket, and survive," Loki stated coldly. "And you will never have my permission, no matter what tortures you concoct. But your warriors are welcome to try a second time."_

_Laufey chuckled. "I think I will have your permission in time, my lost son. I would never harm you, but you are still loyal to our enemies – surely if I execute a few of your friends, you will see the wisdom of cooperating."_

_Laufey called out to his additional warriors in the hall and four Jotun entered, each giant with a prisoner: Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, and Sif. _

_His former friends gaped in disbelief and horror at the contents of the room; the bodies of Odin and Frigga, the armed Jotun warriors, and finally Loki himself, undisguised, his monstrosity plain and unmasked for all to see._

"_And of course," Laufey whispered, "Odin's foolish son, your false brother. You will meet your true brothers in time, once he is dispatched. Once we end this shameful lie."_

_Two additional warriors entered Odin's chambers, each holding a struggling Thor with all of their strength. He was clad in his old armor, his power restored, bloody from the struggle, but Mjolnir was missing._

_Loki could not tear his eyes away from Thor's face. Thor, the only brother he had ever known. Thor, the brother he had almost killed. The brother that he loved still, despite everything._

_Thor looked at Loki like he had never seen anything so disgusting in his life. _

(I knew it was true, I knew he would deny me, he lies like his father.)

_One warrior forced Thor's head back while another formed a blade of ice with his magic; the blade shone in the light of the torches like the purest crystal and Loki knew instinctively that it was incredibly sharp. _

"_Kill him," Laufey commanded, and Loki, Sif, and the Warriors Three all screamed as the blade pierced Thor's throat – _

Loki woke again in the cave, tears running down his face. He looked around, relieved to note that he was once again tuned into reality.

_Or is this reality,_ a mocking voice in the back of his mind needled. _Can you truly be sure anymore?_

He shook off his doubts, knowing that they were not healthy or productive. The visions all lacked consistency, so they could not all be true. And they were becoming less potent as time went on.

But a darker part of his mind remembered that the Tesseract showed its wielders the Truth – every possible manifestation of an event. In another universe, another dimension, Loki realized, the Tesseract's nightmares _were_ his reality.

He laughed bitterly, his heart heavy with sorrow. Every Loki he had seen existed _somewhere_, and all of them were considered monsters, unworthy of love and grace. Perhaps Laufey, in another lifetime, accepted him as his son, but the father who had raised him _never_ would.

Loki screamed in frustration, knowing that the Asgardians were watching and making sport of his despair.

"Heimdall, you self-righteous, traitorous bastard," Loki shouted, "laugh while you still can!"

After his rage burned out, Loki waited, exhausted, for the next nightmare. Was this how Barton and Selvig felt, he wondered, when he took their minds? Still conscious and resisting deep below the surface, their struggles futile against a greater power?

Loki had not tried to be intentionally cruel, but whenever he felt his control over his thralls weaken even slightly, he had overwhelmed their minds again mercilessly.

He had sifted through their memories and ordered them to share the most intimate details of their lives, such as how Selvig had fostered Thor's woman Jane after her parent's death, and why Barton had spared Agent Romanoff's life years ago.

Perhaps it had been cruel, but it was _necessary_, Loki reminded himself.

_Just like it was necessary for Odin to sacrifice me? _A small voice whispered in the back of his mind.

"It was necessary," Loki responded firmly, not caring, at this point, if Heimdall heard him. "The humans needed my guidance."

He pushed away his doubt and forced himself to relax. His worn mind and body demanded sleep, and he would have it before Thanos's torture resumed.

ooooooooooooooooo

As Asgard's twin moons rose high in the heavens, and the sun retreated in the west, the torches that lined the walls in the royal library blazed brighter. Sif's hair had become untied as she pored over books, and she pushed it out of her eyes in frustration. Thor shifted in his chair, stretching his stiff arms.

He did not understand why Loki spent so much time in here – it was not even comfortable to sit for hours in one place, boredom aside.

They had spent the afternoon and evening scouring history books, hoping to find answers in old records and tales of Asgard's early battles. Thor considered the search to be a failure, at least at the present; poems and prose recounting the glorious battles of old focused mainly on the Jotun, the Dark Elves, and the Vanir, but not on any race from beyond the Nine Realms.

Thor was not certain which realm Thanos called home, but he had a feeling that it was distant and unknown to Asgard.

They spoke to each other occasionally, to relate new information or compare similar accounts. So far, the histories in both of their stacks of books seemed similar.

Thor glanced at Sif, admiring how she remained focused even though her research was as fruitless as his. Sif had always been a true friend, and she defended him as fiercely as she fought her battles.

Thor knew that many in Asgard expected her to become his queen one day, and he had always dismissed the idea, as Sif was like a sister to him. Then he met Jane Foster on Midgard, and he started to realize if his old friend had always felt the same way. Did she love him as a brother, or did she feel more? Was there another who held her affection?

Sif straightened suddenly, her eyes focused intently on what she was reading. Thor's heart leapt – had she found something new?

"Did you find anything?" He inquired after a moment's wait.

"This is different," she replied slowly. "It's a heroic poem…and it doesn't seem to speak about the battles we've already looked at."

Thor took the book and tried to decipher the text. It was ancient, nearly falling apart in his hands. Sections appeared to be missing and sometimes the words simply faded on the page, worn away by time.

Thor could read and write as well as any scholar, and had read many thousands of books during his life, even if it wasn't his favorite pastime. Despite his education, however, the poetry was still hard to interpret.

_What shall I tell of the mad king's reign?_

_Son of Buri, that war-wise ruler_

_Built a hall at the summit of Yggdrasil_

_Decked in gold and covered with shields._

_He gathered men from across the land_

_And lead them across the stars to win glory._

_What shall I tell of the mad king's reign?_

_That friend of vultures sacked kingdoms from Alfheim to Niflheim_

_And painted the ship's road crimson._

_He fed the ravens, he fed the wolves_

_His axe sang in battle, drenched in lifeblood_

_As he collected the heads of his foes._

_What shall I tell of the mad king's reign?_

_That life-stealer paid tribute to an outlaw from the shadows_

_Ripped apart the bonds of kinship to pay his dues_

_Tore fathers from sons, mothers from daughters, husbands from wives._

_No sacrifice was enough_

_His bloodlust was never quenched._

_What shall I tell of the made king's reign?_

_He died axe in hand, destined for Valhalla_

_His golden kingdom burning as he breathed his last._

_Slaughtered by his lord, the feeder of wolves_

_Deceived by his son, that grim princeling_

_No tribute is enough if it cannot be paid in full._

_Never rely upon another for what should be won alone_

_Of all the wise men, Mimir knows this best._

Thor blinked, skimming the poem again, looking for phrases that stuck out. "Son of Buri" caught his attention immediately, as he knew that several of the founders of Asgard were descended from Buri's line.

Thor noted that the "mad king" founded a hall at the "summit of Yggdrasil:" was the poet referring to Asgard? He "fed the wolves," or was a seasoned warrior, and "lead men across the stars to win glory," perhaps on a war campaign.

The king's downfall seemed to result from "paying tribute" to "an outlaw from the shadows." Thor wondered what the poet meant by "shadows" – perhaps the dark spaces beyond Yggdrasil's nine realms? If so, could this powerful outlaw, who slaughtered the king with the help of his son, possibly be Thanos?

Thor knew that it was a stretch with so little information, but he latched on to the idea, encouraged by Sif's new discovery.

Was the poem an accurate representation of the past, he wondered, or was it diluted by legend? If the mad king had indeed ruled Asgard, as the poet seemed to imply, was he Odin's father? There had only been two kings since Asgard's founding – Bor and Odin. Bor had died on the battlefield, just as the poem's "mad king" had, but Thor knew next to nothing about his grandfather's life.

Did Odin conspire to have his own father murdered?

He shared his interpretation with Sif, leaving out some of his dark speculation concerning his family, eager for her opinion. She agreed that the poet was discussing Asgard, and listened to his thoughts regarding Thanos and Bor.

"Is there anything else we could have missed?" Thor asked, flipping through the book, looking for some clue as to who wrote it and when.

"There was a name mentioned at the end – it said: 'Of all the wise men, Mimir knows this best,'" Sif responded, lost in thought. "I think I have heard that name before."

Thor searched his memory. The name sounded familiar to him as well; he had to think for a moment before he recalled where he had heard it.

When he did remember, he felt sick.

When he was a young child, Mimir had been one of his father's advisors. He had already been ancient, much older than Odin was even at the present. Mimir had helped build Asgard and was certainly around during his grandfather's reign. He was a skilled sorcerer, but it was said that his quest for knowledge led him to practice dark magic that was unspeakable and unnatural.

When Odin sent Mimir on a diplomatic mission to Svartalfheim, a group Dark Elves who wished to spite Asgard beheaded him.

It was said that Mimir could not be killed, even though his head was separated from his body, and that the Dark Elves, who were bewildered and disgusted, sent his head back to Odin as a peace offering.

Mimir lived on, it was said, without a body; he was tethered to life by his sorcery, miserable and without hope. Odin hid him outside of the walls of the palace due to shame.

Although he lived a cursed life, he was knowledgeable, and Asgardians who knew of him came with inquiries, although they always paid a price. Thor had plenty of gold to offer, but he had a feeling that Mimir did not crave material wealth.

Thor shared his recollections with Sif, and she shuddered.

"Can you not simply speak with your father about Thanos, Thor?" Sif implored, not wanting her friend to have to rely on dark sorcery to find his answers.

"I could," Thor mused. "It would be easier, but my father might not share the full truth. I think that this is one of his tests."

Sif barely managed not to roll her eyes in exasperation. She respected Odin as her king and elder, but from witnessing all that Thor and Loki had been though over the years, she knew that his lessons were very convoluted. Why couldn't he just take his sons hunting and share his wisdom then like a normal father?

"Do you know what Mimir asks for in return for his knowledge?" She replied after a pause.

"No. But that does not mean we cannot seek him out. If the price is too high, or he demands an evil bargain, I can always leave," Thor reasoned, not willing to abandon his mission yet.

"_I can always leave?_ You meant to say that _we _can always leave," Sif corrected.

Thor grinned. "You must be careful, and do what I say. I will not risk your life. But you have already helped me this much, and it would be unfair if I didn't allow you to be by my side for the rest."

"We'll leave tomorrow."

ooooooooooooooooo

From the height of his throne, he could see his army massing across the dark and rocky terrain with perfect clarity. Hundreds of Leviathans swam through open air as if it was water, and many thousands of foot soldiers scrambled about, training or seeking additional equipment.

Odin's false son believed that his deception had destroyed the main part of his force, but he was mistaken – the Chitauri always survived, regrouped, and crawled their way out of the dirt. Even in the face of near annihilation, it was no difficult task to create and equip thousands more within days, as long as a few remained as material.

And his army would not be so easily destroyed this time.

Once his army assembled and the time was right, he would lead them to Asgard and beyond for sacrifices far more glorious and lasting than a few hundred humans on Earth.

He would spill the blood of gods, and topple the arrogant golden fortresses that they constructed out of vanity and cowardice.

He would crush Odin Borson like an insect for his petty betrayal, for stealing what was rightfully his and daring to stand against him. But first, he would tear apart his sons before his eyes.

And once it was done, once blood seeped into the ground in each of the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil and every voice fell silent, he would fulfill his heart's greatest need.

ooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ Thanks so much for the follows/favs/reviews.

alephunky: Thanks so much! :)

ynath esrith: Odin certainly has not treated Loki very well over the years, has he? Even if Loki "learns his lesson" and redeems himself (in his own way, of course), he will probably always have a grudge against Odin. I can't blame him – raising the son of your enemy to believe that he is a monster, even if it was unintentional, and using him as a pawn all his life (with Jotunheim THEN Thanos) will create some issues that are not easily resolved. The torture will not endear Odin to Loki any further. Odin will have to answer for his mistakes later on in this fic somehow, I can promise you that. ;)

angrbodagiantess: Thanks! Yes, Thor will even brave the dreaded library for Loki. ;) I don't think Thor is stupid just not…scholarly. And I'm glad you don't hate my Sif! I'm trying not to vilify anyone outright in this fic, except maybe Thanos.

I'm planning on 16-18 chapters as of now, and I'll probably update less often, more like once a week. Job searches and all are taking up a lot of my time.


	10. X

CHAPTER X

ooooooooooooooooooooo

She worked steadily, her hands swift and sure from centuries of practice as she threaded her loom and wove a tapestry of fate.

Her labors usually consisted of many colors - there was golden thread for wealth, white for peace, black for an endless night; red for bloodshed and betrayal and green and blue for new life. As she worked, her tapestry revealed the Norns' designs, and she was rarely ever wrong.

Right now, her tapestry was almost entirely red and black, with small patches of green and very little white. Frigga shivered, standing and regarding her work closely. She had threaded her loom with her family in mind, having already considered the entirely of Asgard and Midgard a day past.

There was almost no difference between the two tapestries – it appeared that her husband and sons' fate was similar to that of many others in the Nine Realms: bloodshed, strife, and chaos, with little chance of redemption and peace.

She ran her fingers along the crimson threads, visions flashing across her mind's eye. She had been taught to interpret the future by Skuld herself, when she was no more than a girl studying sorcery in Vanaheim. Weaving was an inexact art if practiced by a novice, but in the hands of a skilled sorceress…visions were often accurate.

She tore her hand away from the red threads, pushing visions of hatred and vengeance out of her mind. There was still hope for her family, she convinced herself; amidst all of the chaos and despair, small sections of white and green thread foretold reconciliation and peace. She smiled slightly as she interpreted the threads, seeing her sons fighting once again side by side.

_Fate is unyielding, _Frigga reminded herself, _but even gods and immortals cannot know the future in it's entirely until it has come to pass._

_All we can do is play our part, and hope._

It was a concept that her husband had never fully grasped. Odin was knowledgeable, yes, but he was reluctant to admit that the story of the universe was already composed long before his birth. It was noble to want change the future for the better, but Frigga realized that even immortal beings were subject to certain laws.

So she wove and played her fated part, learning the potential future of her family and how she would help her white and green visions come to pass.

Frigga prayed that her next tapestries would tell a more hopeful tale, and she knew that if her family was to be repaired, she would have to help bring it about.

While Thor loved his brother unconditionally, and Odin still regarded Loki as his son, she had realized long before Loki's fall that neither truly _understood_ him.

Loki's differences had bred sorrow and resentment in his heart over the last thousand years, especially when he was held up in comparison to his brother. Frigga had tried to dispel that darkness, knowing that when Loki discovered his true parentage (_not if, _when) his bitterness would multiply a thousand fold and spill over past his family, poisoning everyone around him.

She had always tried to treat him equally to his brother, even secretly regarding him as her favorite son, while Odin had always outwardly favored Thor. Yet her good intentions had made little difference on the dark days following Thor's coronation – she was reminded that, despite her words of reassurance, Loki's fate was sealed when he fell off the edge of the Bifrost into certain death.

Or so it seemed, at the time.

Instead of mourning in full and accepting his death, however, she had woven incessantly and obsessively after Loki's fall. For many months on end, her son's tapestries had been the purest black, indicating darkness or death.

More often than not, her husband and remaining son would have to pull her away from her weaving, although they still hoped that Loki lived as well. She knew now, of course, that Loki had not died, and had instead been swallowed by a nightmare, a pitch-black nightmare that had driven him to commit atrocities across Midgard with relish.

She hadn't foreseen the darkness of his fall, but perhaps now she could nurture peace and forgiveness in place of vengeance.

For Frigga knew that Loki's punishment, as it was now, would certainly break him and his faith in his family beyond repair.

She had lived a long life; she knew the cruelty of Thanos firsthand, how he twisted and corrupted men's minds, making them do and believe terrible things.

Her husband hoped that Loki would overcome Thanos's tortures and find redemption on his own, but Frigga knew that even if he was capable, Loki should not have to endure alone.

If she did not interfere, Thanos would destroy any remaining good in her youngest son slowly, using the lies fed to him for the last thousand years as kindling. While Thanos could not destroy Loki completely from a distance, he would use Loki's belief in his own monstrosity to turn his already bright flame of hatred into a raging inferno.

If he ever escaped from Thanos's malicious lies without guidance, she knew that the bright shade of crimson she feared would not merely be confined to her tapestry and visions.

Frigga knew what she had to do, though it would be difficult. The Tesseract was heavily guarded after it had been recovered on Midgard days past, kept separate from even the nigh- impenetrable Weapons Vault. She knew that Odin would never grant her permission to shield it and block Thanos from using the artifact to influence Loki. He would likely believe that she was helping Loki escape punishment, when she was not sparing him anything but Thanos's cruelty. He would atone, but without being broken and twisted beyond recognition in the process.

She did not even know where the Tesseract was hidden – as of now. Only the Allfather and whatever guards he had entrusted with its safekeeping knew its location and safeguards.

Frigga smiled. Odin had never realized the full extent of her sorcery; he knew that she received visions, but he never realized that she helped certain threads come to pass, as was her fated role. Or that she had received instruction from all of the Norns, not only Skuld.

_Fortunately, _she mused, cutting through her most recent tapestry with a blade, _I can receive visions of the past as well._

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Their horses ambled slowly through the forest, gaits unsteady from their hooves sinking into mud and rotting leaves. Thor eyed their surroundings warily; it was now afternoon, and the sun was still high above the horizon, but barely any light filtered in through the thick canopy of trees. Ravens and other birds of prey occasionally broke the silence with their calls, and as he and Sif approached their destination, they saw a doe lying motionless on the ground, her belly ripped open and insides spilling out onto the dirt.

Thor had seen far worse, but he still found this place unsettling. Darkness seemed to pervade the very air, as if the forest itself knew that it was hosting a being that lived and breathed dark sorcery. Sif was pale and looked ill but she carried on silently, wary and ready to face any threat.

He had always been lauded as brave, but now he knew that some of his past courage was disguised recklessness and impatience. Being forced to oppose Loki on Midgard had given him a new perspective on battle; fighting someone he loved had made it that much harder for him to use Mjolnir lightly and carelessly.

And now they were traveling to a place where his strength would be of no use – they could either convince Mimir to aid them with his knowledge of history, or they would face a dead end. Thor wished that Loki was here – Loki knew the ins and outs of magic, and he might be able to goad Mimir into making a fair trade with his silver words.

Before leaving that morning, he and Sif had paid a visit to Heimdall. Thor had wanted more than anything else to inquire about Loki's welfare, and he did so, despite Sif's words of caution.

Heimdall's eyes had seemed to peer at Thor's very soul as he replied that Loki was fighting; he was angry, and he did not seem close yet to completing his punishment, but the future was still to be determined. Thor had felt an odd sense of relief; he wanted Loki to realize the gravity of his crimes, but he also did not want to lose his brother in the process.

If Loki was still angry, and fighting, then perhaps he would have the strength to endure long enough to repent for his actions. Thor hoped that his brother would not be broken by Thanos's dark power before he and Sif got the knowledge that they needed, which they could then use to….he still wasn't sure at this point.

Sif had warned him not to interfere with Loki's punishment; perhaps she feared that the Allfather would banish him again. He saw the wisdom behind her words of caution; how could he help his brother if he was stranded on another realm while Loki's torture continued?

The only thing they could now do was explore their new lead.

Heimdall, unsurprisingly, knew all about Thanos and Bor's association, as he had been gatekeeper long before Thor's birth. When Thor had requested details, however, Heimdall claimed that he was sworn to secrecy on the matter. In the end, regardless, he provided them with directions to Mimir's abode, as that was information he was allowed to reveal.

Thor saw no point in avoiding Heimdall and wasting time finding Mimir's home; the Gatekeeper was surely watching them anyway, and he probably had tacit approval from Odin to reveal Mimir's location. If his search was forbidden, Thor realized, his father would have been informed and action would have been taken by now.

He recalled Heimdall's words as he and Sif left to begin their journey into the wilderness beyond the golden city: _"Beware, my prince, of Mimir's words. Make sure that you know your own mind before you make a bargain. Some wisdom is better left unsought." _

Thor had frowned at Heimdall, but he did not respond as they turned to leave.

And now, as they traversed the forest, Thor began to feel closed-in and trapped. He and Sif often had to duck to avoid low-hanging branches, and when he looked back to judge how far they had travelled, it almost seemed as if the branches grew and merged together behind them, closing off their prior path.

He couldn't see their horses' hoof prints, Thor realized with a thrill of fear. The mud was so thick that surely they should have left a trail to follow back…

"I think we are close," Sif whispered, breaking the near-silence, her eyes attempting to take in every angle of the forest at once. "The trees are thinning out."

"Our path…Sif, our trail is gone." Thor did not like the sound of his voice, halting and weak with fear. He had encountered magic in his travels before, but Loki had always been with him, had always taken the lead when his expertise was needed. Now, Thor felt naked and vulnerable without his brother beside him.

Sif glanced behind her and shuddered. "Dark sorcery, born of evil intent," she replied. "This does not bode well for our return."

"All shall be well," Thor replied firmly, trying to exude confidence that he did not possess. "We have done Mimir no harm, and will start no quarrel to prevent our return."

Sif looked pale but she forced a smile nonetheless.

As the trees thinned, they could see a structure in the clearing. Thor would not term it a cottage, as it was significantly bigger. It was built of wood, looked ancient, and appeared to have several stories.

He and Sif gazed upon the house, steeling themselves to approach it. It looked completely wrong, from an engineering standpoint: there were three main floors that Thor could see, but the first was the smallest; the second and third were each wider and taller than the previous. Rooms and additions branched off of the upper floors, seemingly without pillars or any other form of support.

Thor took a deep breath and dismounted his horse. Sif followed shortly after, not breaking their silence. They exchanged a long glance before they approached the door, trying to disguise their hesitance.

Thor raised his fist and knocked several times, trying not to hit the door too hard; it looked like it would break under a single good blow, and Thor did not wish to offend Mimir before even speaking with him.

They waited five seconds, ten, thirty. No response.

He cleared his throat, shifting nervously. He thought that he had knocked loudly enough. If Mimir was ill, or had finally died, and could not respond, surely Heimdall would have informed him.

"Introduce yourself," Sif hissed beside him.

Thor cleared his throat again. "I am Thor Odinson," he boomed, "and I seek Mimir and his knowledge. Tell me, anyone who is inside, if I have found the right place."

The door swung open of its own accord.

Thor and Sif glanced at each other again, both assessing the other's willingness to continue. Sif determinedly crossed the threshold and he followed.

The entryway was dark, and torches of green fire lit the way down a narrow hall. Thor took the lead, his heart pounding, and his footsteps on the stone floor echoing throughout the house.

The hall led to a much bigger room; it was circular, and the walls were stone instead of wood. They looked around, noticing a huge vat in the center of the room, seething and boiling. Symbols were carved into the wall; upon closer inspection, Thor noted that they were runes.

Mocking laughter startled him out of his observations.

"Odinson. I haven't seen you since you were a little whelp running around your mother's skirts."

Thor followed the sound of the voice up to a shelf high above the vat; what he saw there almost made him stumble back in fear and horror. Sif was less successful at hiding her reaction, and her scream echoed along the walls, in perfect time with the cries inside of Thor's own mind and heart.

A disembodied head stared down at them, its eyes brimming with malice. Mimir's flesh seemed to be rotting off, and tubes where his neck should have ended snaked down into the boiling contents of the vat.

Thor's insides twisted in disgust. He had known, in theory, that Mimir had no body, that he was kept alive by dark sorcery, but he had expected it to be…cleaner, somehow. He could picture a disembodied head fresh from a body, but over a millennia of decay had made his features twisted and unrecognizable.

The boiling liquid sustaining Mimir seethed, the fumes filling the room and making him lightheaded. Heat rose in his chest. Who was this cursed creature to address him in such a way?

"And you brought your whore with you."

Thor growled, forgetting his fear. He felt Sif's eyes on the side of his face, and he gripped Mjolnir's handle more tightly.

"Have care of how you speak of my friend, lest I crush your skull. We are not here to quarrel, but to find answers."

"You wish to know of the mad king?" Mimir chuckled. "You read my verse. Why do you wish to hear such a sordid tale? Would you not be happier off felling monsters somewhere, doing heroic deeds?"

Thor sensed the mockery in Mimir's voice, and he almost hefted Mjolnir at him then and there. Who was Mimir to question _him_, the Crown Prince? He, whose father had allowed this miserable being to remain in Asgard out of mercy and pity?

Thor attempted to calm his anger and steady his breathing, fumes filling his lungs. From a distance, he felt Sif grab his wrist and squeeze hard.

"I would know of Thanos's association with Bor and my father, Mimir. I am willing to reward you handsomely."

Mimir regarded him for a long moment. Thor tried to remember what color his eyes had been long ago, but he could not recall. Now, the whites had yellowed and the pupils were blood red. The red seemed to echo the rage rising in his heart and the heat clouding his mind.

_Would Mimir still bleed red, if he bleeds at all?_ Thor mused with a detached curiosity, wishing to find out.

After a pause, Mimir spoke.

"I will accept payment, Odinson, but only one form. Your blood."

"My blood?" Thor laughed in response. It seemed too easy – what was a few drops of blood, in exchange for the invaluable knowledge that he would use to help his brother?

Mimir nodded at the vat below him, and Thor understood that that was where he was to offer his payment.

He scoffed in contempt. _What a truly loathsome coward, _Thor thought, _that he is forced to sustain his life from the bodies of others. My father should have tried harder to end his miserable existence._

Thor removed a knife from his belt and dropped Mjolnir – it was becoming heavy anyway. He approached the boiling liquid, the steam from the concoction swirling around him.

"Thor, wait," Sif urged behind him, grabbing his shoulder, her voice thick with fear. "You must stop!"

He shoved her away impatiently into the stone wall.

"Know your place," he snapped, raising the knife to his arm.

He saw Mimir's twisted lips grinning in victory as he brought the knife down.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

_a/n: _Sorry guys, no Loki this chapter. Don't worry, he'll be back very soon :)

Maia2: Thanks for reviewing! Yes, Loki losing his hatred so quickly would be too easy – he's been through a lot, but perhaps there's still hope for him. I'm glad you like my Thor and Sif team! They're not doing so well right now, however…

fadedwordsofluck: Thanks! Thanos is a huge reason why Loki committed his crimes. I hope they mention him in Thor 2.

Polka dot: Seems that way, doesn't it? Maybe with Frigga's intervention, things will begin to turn around for him. Thanks!

Ireland Ranger: Thank you! Glad you liked it! :)

angrbodagiantess: Yes, I thought it would be especially traumatic for him if he realized that somewhere his "illusions" were actually real. I'm pure evil lol. The Mimir story was one of the more disturbing elements of Norse mythology, and I tried to portray that here. Thanks!


	11. XI

CHAPTER XI

_He felt the air around him hum with energy before the sky split open and a pillar of light and heat scorched the barren terrain. He recognized this strange energy instantly– it was the Asgardians' Bifrost, a bridge between worlds, as his father had told him long ago in war tales. He had witnessed it for the first time when the column of light had spat out six enemies days ago, and war was declared after a thousand years of peace._

_Byleistr wondered if the Asgardian king was leading an entire army – surely he must know that Laufey was still assembling his forces. It would be dishonorable to attack now, with his opponent still preparing. It would be slaughter, despite the strength of the Jotun people._

_He gazed on the column from a distance, ready to catch the first glimpse of whomever the portal delivered. Byleistr let his magic flow down his arms, imagining razor-sharp blades that would pierce even the strongest iron. He felt his blades materialize over his arms, deadly and well-formed, but still not flawless like his father's._

_He waited for the bridge to ascend back up into the sky, into Asgard, and he noted with confusion that it was _staying._ It wasn't disappearing quickly like before. The energy of the bridge, concentrated like a thousand neutron stars, tore through Jotunheim's heart and demolished crumbling buildings, ripping apart any giant standing in its path._

_Byleistr stared on in horror. Something had gone horribly wrong – had the bridge broken? Was Asgard's army destroyed along with the unsuspecting Jotun?_

_And the column was _growing.

_Screams tore through the air, barely audible over the sound of the land splitting. He turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, hating himself for his cowardice (a warrior must look his death in the eye and laugh joyfully, his father had always told him). But how could he face an opponent that tore through space and time itself, an opponent that had no weaknesses and would show no mercy?_

_The column was expanding, growing in strength, gaining on him despite his futile attempts at escape. His brother, he though desperately– where was Helbindi? Byleistr remembered that he had gone away on a hunt to the mountains earlier today, and he prayed that he had not returned to the city yet, had not been cooked alive like the giants the bridge had devoured first. He could still hear their screams, like knives in his eardrums – _

_His father. His father would know what to do! He was away, in Asgard, doing something important, and Byleistr did not know what it was. Negotiations? Ultimatums? Whatever the case, if his father knew of this, he could make the Asgardians disable their bridge. Surely even the strange, monstrous Asgardians craved honest battle over this cowardly slaughter. _

_He focused his mind and shifted his awareness, his body growing distant as he tried to contact his father. This magic was difficult and draining, and best used for emergencies. While he normally would be able to find a family member's consciousness within seconds, Laufey's was missing – was he injured? Dead?_

_His heart pounded harder, pumping the purest terror through his veins. Where was his father? Why hadn't Asgard withdrawn its bridge? As the light and heat consumed everything in its path, gaining its strength from the destruction of Jotunheim, knowledge dawned on him like the rising of a blood-red sun._

_This slaughter was no accident. This was painstakingly planned and flawlessly executed. His father was lured away, probably murdered by the Asgardians, who then used their dread powers to turn their bridge into a weapon. There was no escape, no salvation. Only one question ran through his frenzied mind – why?_

_As he slowed, the blades on his arms shattering, warriors ran past him, just as intent on escaping as he had been. Most didn't understand, he realized sadly; they thought that there was a chance that they could live if they ran far enough away._

"_**Brother!"**_

_He heard a familiar voice and turned as Helbindi grabbed his arm. Byleistr let out a sob he did not know he had been holding and hugged his brother, nearly crushing his ribs._

"_We must go!" Helbindi's face was wild, desperate; he was slightly younger that Byleistr and was also present when the Asgardians had first used their Bifrost days ago. He knew what this meant, but still clung to hope anyway._

"_It's useless." Byleistr slumped, resigned. He and his people would die writhing like insects, without even the opportunity to die warriors' deaths._

"_Maybe it can still be stopped!" His younger brother yelled back, pulling him along with him as he ran. "We must not give up yet! We can cover more distance on a frost beast!"_

_Byleistr did not think the Asgardians would show mercy, or that his people and his family would be spared. His father was likely murdered, and he could only hear the deafening sound the Bifrost made as it tore through his home as an eagle rips apart its prey._

_But it would be cruel to let his brother die without hope, to deny him this final comfort._

"_We should take others, Helbindi. As many giants as can hold on."_

_Helbindi nodded as they approached the ice-cage of a remaining beast. Byleistr wiped away his tears – at least he would die with his brother – _

Loki woke again, startled by the sudden change in his surroundings. He frowned in confusion- this vision was different. It obviously featured his attack on Jotunheim with the Bifrost over a year ago, but unlike most of the other alternate realities he had seen, it happened from another's perspective.

He tried to relax his bound arms, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Why had his torture changed? In the countless other possible pasts and futures that had tormented him over the last few days, he had only seen out of his own eyes, or those of his false family – never any random Jotun.

Never any of his victims.

As Loki recalled the vision, a name came to him – Helbindi. The brother of the frost giant who was fleeing from the Bifrost's destruction. The giant had tried to contact his father, who was in Asgard –

Laufey.

Loki's stomach churned again, and he felt bile burning the back of his parched throat. Apparently the king who had abandoned him had other sons – his brothers by blood.

_But it can't be real_, Loki reassured himself. _None of the other visions were true, at least in this life. Why would this new one be any different?_

Loki took deep, cooling breaths from his mouth, trying to push the sound of screams and cooking flesh from his mind.

But no matter how he tried to distract himself, his mind returned to the Tesseract's vision of his destruction of Jotunheim. The frost giant from whose eyes Loki had seen– he did not remember his name – had not seemed too different from himself.

The giant was obviously his age or younger, had a brother, and was skilled with magic. He even trusted and loved his father, not fully realizing how deceptive and depraved Laufey was. The last similarity stung Loki's pride and conjured images of Odin's face in the Weapons Vault, mocking him.

The young giant had not seemed to be a monster.

Loki recalled the surreal few days in Asgard after Thor had been banished. It had been one hit after another – learning what he was, the unexpected Odinsleep, ascending a throne that he did not want. His friends' betrayal, Thor regaining Mjolnir…now, those defining events seemed to be a blur.

He remembered his rage and desperation, his hands using Gugnir to turn the eye of the Bifrost towards Jotunheim, and freezing the controls to seal the realm's fate.

Had he known the horror that his actions would unleash? Loki knew before Thor's banishment that he never would have done anything so rash – but after he discovered what he was (_a monster, below any animal_) he had wanted them all **gone**. He had wanted to erase the Jotun from the memory of the universe, from his own memory, and from Odin's distant gaze whenever he looked at him.

Had he thought about how the planet would be destroyed? He probably hadn't – in any case, he didn't picture the screams of terror, the smell of cooking meat, or the giants' desperate and futile attempts at escape.

He had only thought about himself.

He wondered if the two frost giant brothers survived the destruction before Thor broke the bridge. Oddly enough, he hoped that they had. Maybe Thor had been right to –

Loki cut off his musing, shaking his head in exasperation. What was he thinking? Why did he care about what happened to two frost giant princes, or any Jotun? The vision probably wasn't even real. Even if it was, the Jotun were still savage monsters.

_It definitely wasn't real_, Loki reassured himself again.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Frigga slumped against the pedestal, exhausted from completing the last of her enchantments. The Tesseract had not been hard to locate once she had discovered its location, but traveling to the pocket dimension and disabling the guards and protections had been draining enough.

Then there was the matter of the cube, which was tainted with Thanos's magic. It had been many hours before she banished the last of the darkness surrounding it, and was finally able to shield it from outside influence. While Thanos was no longer able to torture her son, there was still a link between Loki's mind and the Tesseract. His ordeal was not over yet.

Frigga ran a shaking hand over her forehead, relieved that she had succeeded. She frowned as she noted the scorched skin on her arms through her ripped sleeves – she would have to take care that nobody noticed until they were healed.

If Odin discovered her deception, all of her work would be for nothing.

She surveyed the room behind her. The handful of warriors and sorcerers chosen to guard the cube were standing still as if cut from stone, staring blankly ahead at nothing. They were all able to alert the Allfather telepathically if the Tesseract was compromised – getting in undetected was challenging enough.

An automation that resembled the old Destroyer lay in pieces on the floor. Unlike living minds, it was impossible to trick, and had to be contended with immediately. She would have to reassemble it, lest the guards notice when they woke.

Frigga wanted nothing more than to rest, but she was not yet done here. Her magic was drained, but thankfully, she was standing in a room with an unlimited source of energy.

_Loki, no matter what I must do, I swear to you that you will be all right._

ooooooooooooooooooo

He sang a tribute to his mistress as venom seared his hands, ran down his arms, and pooled at his feet. He shuddered as he felt the poison course through his veins, sending tremors throughout his body, the agony burning away his sense of time.

Only the instant existed, the transcendent moment where he could almost see his love again. He was approaching the divide between life and death, a state that he had induced many times before. Approached, but never completed – there was always an outside factor that kept his heart beating, no matter what injuries he received, no matter how close his mistress was to finally taking him in her arms.

It was a curse, he knew, and also the ultimate test. For what strengthens one more than having to struggle for what he loves? And he had struggled, and wept, and longed for so many years, sending his beloved gift after gift, corpse after corpse.

Many would call him a monster, he knew, and perhaps he was. But the sentiment did not matter when the reasoning behind it was flawed. Whenever he offered his mistress a glorious sacrifice, he did not feel rage, or hate, or fear for himself, but only an all-encompassing love and peace.

Whenever the life bled out of a being's eyes, he felt joy for it and the journey it was about to undertake. There was no small amount of envy, either – he _longed_ to be in the place of his sacrifice, but fate had dealt him a cruel hand.

It had been so ever since he was a boy on Titan. He was born misshapen, as a burden and a source of shame for his parents. He did not ever remember receiving a look that was not tinged with pity and poorly-disguised disgust.

His brother was born perfect, however, and soon overshadowed him in almost every way. As soon as Thanos was old enough to understand the cause of others' contempt for him, he had despised his younger brother with all of his heart.

His heart was opened to more than hate, however, during the time of the famine. There was never enough food for any family, even for the leaders of the colony. When Thanos recalled that time, his memories weren't encoded in words or emotions but rather the sensation of gnawing, biting hunger.

Other adults would visit his father's house, talking in low and angry tones, shooting furtive glances at him. He hadn't fully understood why at the time, only that it was one more unwelcome indication of his differences.

He understood why soon enough – there were too many mouths to feed, and not nearly enough food to waste on one with the Deviant Syndrome.

So he was cast out of the colony and refused help or shelter when he wandered back. He still remembered their faces – full of guilt and pity, but closed off, distant, as if he was a wounded creature from another species entirely, and not one of their own kind.

The moon's barren surface did not allow for much hunting, and soon enough, he lost all strength to keep searching. He lay down in a crater, preparing to surrender to a slow and painful death.

He did not die in those unending, agonizing weeks, however, but instead found his salvation. She had visited him, comforted him; assured him of his own power and worthiness, words of kindness and confidence that he had never before heard in his life.

When She was with him, the pain seemed distant and unimportant. He knew that he was delirious, and perhaps hallucinating, but he did not care – he should have died, would gladly have died, but he lived on despite his starving body.

He had a glorious purpose, She had told him – the universe was becoming too populated, too teeming with life. It was unbalanced, and chaos would inevitably reign if the laws of nature were not preserved. He would be her devotee, and would send her billions of sacrifices. He was the only one capable of such a mission, the only soul in the universe who was worthy.

Months later, driven by willpower alone, Thanos made the slow, torturous crawl back to his colony. The famine had ended – crops grew once again in the dry soil. His family and other members of his colony feigned relief, barely disguising their disappointment – he was once again an unwanted burden, a blight on their eyes and their otherwise perfect race.

He had smiled, not sullenly, with resentment, but with genuine happiness – he had found his first sacrifices.

It had all gone so well since that moment, until he meddled with the Asgardians – one instant, he had had the universe in the palm of his hand, and the next, he was banished to the farthest reaches of space, unable to please his lover with worthwhile gifts.

How long he had languished here, mired in despair and desperation, until the key to his success literally fell at his feet.

The boy was mad when he found him, and so, so angry, but above all, he was completely and irrefutably **lost**. Cast out by his false father, and driven insane slowly by the unknowing hatred of his own people for his _true_ race. Raised on lies in the shadow of a more-favored brother, doomed to eternally be unworthy in others' eyes.

He had fallen, as well – he had longed to embrace Death, but had been denied. Thanos saw so much of himself in the prince that he had spared his life, and had shown him his glorious purpose.

Thnaos had taught the ungrateful fool all that he could, had taken him under his wing, only to be betrayed again. Twice by the same family – clearly their love for deceit ran thicker than their blood.

It was no matter now – he had no need of their talents any longer. The paths were forged and unguarded and his army was mobilized – it was only a matter of time before he reached the Nine Realms.

Thanos unsheathed his wicked, curved dagger and held it up in the stream of venom. The leviathan's massive jaw hung open limply, frozen in the embrace of Death. He would save this weapon for last, carve out his betrayers' hearts with this blade, just as he had done the last time he was in Asgard.

He hoped that the irony would not be lost on Odin, though Thanos would give him plenty of time to ponder. His death would not come quickly.

Thanos stood, stepping away from the leviathan's carcass. New skin formed over his fresh wounds and he felt his head clear and his ecstasy fade away. It had always been like this – he would reach the precipice, almost crossing over, but never seeing his lover again until he completed his task.

Thanos summoned his generals and ascended the steps to his throne.

It was time.

ooooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ I diverged a bit from Thanos's comics backstory, partly for plot purposes and partly because I don't read the comics, so I'm not familiar with his plot there. Hope it turns out okay and is still interesting. :)

Loki will definitely be back next chapter, and so will Thor and Sif. I'm skipping around a lot so the story flows better and nobody gets bored of my Loki ;)

Polka dot: Thor isn't fully himself at the moment, I hinted at that a tiny bit, but I'll explore it more in-depth next chapter. Thanks for reviewing!

breumel: Thanks so much! I have a lot more to write :)

angrbodagiantess: Your review made my day, I smiled so much when I read it :) Seriously, you addressed all that I'm concerned about in my writing (characterization, descriptions). Thanks so much! :)


	12. XII

CHAPTER XII

"I will accept payment, Odinson, but only one form: your blood."

Sif heard Thor laugh derisively through the thick haze of smoke and fumes. She could almost feel his anger radiate off of him; clearly some dark power was beginning to take hold of him. While Thor's rage grew, Sif's fear grew in tandem with it.

She had known that this was a doomed mission since they had started out; neither of them knew much of magic, and Mimir was rumored to be a shrewd opponent even without his dark sorcery. Truly, this was a quest that played to Loki's strengths, but Loki was not here. He was being punished, deservedly or not, and to get the forbidden knowledge to help his brother, Thor was willing to make a blood bargain.

Sif had spent more than enough time around Loki to know a few of the dangers of such oaths, especially if one was not in his right mind to begin with. As a girl, when her hair was still golden, she would seek out the dark prince in the library herself whenever he neglected his weapons training.

Loki would usually be sitting in some secluded place, his nose buried in a thick tome, with a healthy-sized stack of books beside him. Grabbing him and physically dragging him to the training ring was not an option, as Loki had a way of slipping her grasp even before he learned to disappear in thin air.

If she tried to take his books, he would disguise them with an illusion and move them elsewhere, and she would be forced to spend her time feeling around for the elusive stack of leather and paper as if she were completely blind.

More often than not, she would sit beside him and hum some common ballad that she knew he hated. If even that did not work, she would stare at him intently while he read and drum her fingers against the table, hoping to unnerve him. Usually, forcing him out into the world by annoying him worked, though success was still hard to come by.

Instead of letting Sif bully him into sparring with her, Loki would read aloud from his books, speaking above her humming and finger tapping. Sif did not understand most of the magical terms and theories that Loki espoused, but she had managed to pick up a few things from the snippets that he read.

"_A blood oath binds two beings together, body and soul, until the terms of their agreement are met. Both parties must honor their oaths – if either member is forsworn, he or she will die within minutes of breaking the terms." Loki read quietly, but his voice resonated, as it always did. Despite her distrust of and disinterest in magic, Loki's speech had an almost hypnotic effect on her; she always longed to hear more of whatever he spoke of, despite herself._

"_How would they die?" Sif asked, wondering what magic was powerful enough to kill an Asgardian within moments._

_Loki skimmed to the bottom of the page and winced. "Their blood boils in their veins and their bodies cook from the inside out."_

Sif knew that because Mimir demanded blood as payment, this was an informal type of the oath. She did not know if the consequences were as dire for breaking it – but she did not want Thor to have to find out.

Mimir nodded down at the boiling liquid beneath him. Through the smoke, Sif saw a chalice resting on the ledge of the tub that held the concoction. She understood Mimir's intentions at once; he would take Thor's blood in exchange for a drink from the vat.

The longer she studied the liquid, the less she trusted it. It was seething with heat despite the fact that there was no fire beneath it to bring it to a boil. She saw shadows moving within it, some taking familiar shapes for an instant, others taking on forms that were twisted and unrecognizable and no less terrifying.

If Thor accepted that potion, drank down that dark sorcery…she feared that her friend would never be the same, despite succeeding in his goal of gaining knowledge. She had to stop this somehow, no matter what happened. The oath had not been made yet, and they could still turn back.

Thor removed a knife and dropped Mjolnir with a thud, as if it was a heavy burden. This frightened Sif more than anything else; Thor usually set his hammer down lightly. Had evil sorcery somehow made him unworthy to wield it?

She knew that it would only get worse if he drank Mimir's poison.

"Thor, wait," she urged, grabbing his shoulder. "You must stop!"

But there was a hunger in his eyes, and a darkness that was not fully his own. He ignored her warning, shoving her away roughly into the stone wall.

"Know your place," he snapped, barely glancing at her.

He raised his knife, its blade glinting in the torchlight. Time seemed to slow to her, as it sometimes did during charged battles. Sif saw all of the variables and their consequences laid out before her. She knew that no matter what happened to her, Thor could not make that bargain.

As Thor brought his knife down, Sif darted forward without thinking and stopped the blade with her hand before it broke his skin. He stared at her, shocked, and Mimir yelled angrily. When she looked down at her hand, she saw trickles of her blood running into the vat.

Thor let go of his knife and she threw it away, her fingers cut to the bone from having grabbed it. He was breathing heavily, staring at her in surprise as if he had just woken from a deep sleep.

She smiled at him hesitantly before looking up at Mimir. It was hard to discern the expression on his rotting face, but she could almost feel his rage rising throughout the room like smoke.

"_What have you done, you foolish girl?!"_

Sif heard a loud crash behind her, and as she and Thor turned, they saw to their shared horror that the exit to the hall had closed off, folded back into the stone wall like it had never existed.

Thor shouted and grabbed Mjolnir; Sif was relieved beyond words to see that he could once again lift it.

"You listen well, Mimir," Thor began, and Sif noticed that his hands were shaking. "Let us leave, and I swear that I will spare your life."

Mimir laughed in response, high and long, and Sif shuddered, wanting desperately to block out the sound.

"_You_ will kill _me_, brat? The most learned Svartalfar sorcerers tried and failed before you could even _speak_! It takes more than any fool swinging a hammer to end _me._"

Sif followed Thor's eyes down to the tubes that connected Mimir's neck to the vat and sustained him.

"I don't have to kill you," Thor growled, his voice low and dangerous. "At least not right away."

Mimir paused for a moment then smiled, revealing a mouth half-full of rotting teeth. "Think before you act, Odinson. I will not be the only one paying the price for your stupidity."

Sif felt a thrill of fear as Mimir looked directly at her, knowing what the triumph in his eyes meant.

"What have you done to Sif?" Thor shouted, his terror almost dripping off of his words.

Mimir chuckled. "Nothing. The foolish quim sealed her own fate."

Sif could almost feel Thor frantically putting the pieces together. "Her blood?" Thor looked at her, panicked. "That was a blood oath!"

Mimir laughed again, delighted. "If she does not drink, she dies. If you kill me, you will never find your way back home, and for all of his power, even your father will never be able to bring you back."

Thor straightened his shoulders, but Sif knew that he was feigning confidence. "I do not believe you. You speak only lies."

Mimir grinned again, a thousand dark things in his smile. "Kill me then, Thunderer. Destroy my source of strength. Let us see who is right in the end."

Thor raised Mjolnir, and Sif caught his arm again, her eyes imploring. He looked at her for a long moment, unsure of what to do.

"Thor, I must drink," Sif stated, quietly but firmly.

"It will destroy you – "

"If I do not," she continued, speaking above him, "we will both die, and you will be unable to help your brother. Do you not remember why we traveled here?"

"His sorcery will change you. Sif, I can't allow…I cannot allow any harm to come to you because of me." Beneath his fear, Thor's eyes held a deep sadness. She knew that he blamed himself for leading this doomed mission.

"I _volunteered_. Thor, I took oaths as a warrior to protect you with my life. Do you think so little of my courage, that I cannot face this dark magic to save us both?"

"I know you are brave," Thor muttered, taking hold of her hands, his eyes downcast. "But there are many fates that are far worse than death."

Sif knew at that moment that Thor was picturing Loki falling and being swallowed by the Abyss, and then hanging on the Tree, alone in his despair and agony.

She imagined dying without receiving Mimir's knowledge. Even if Thor managed to escape, he would return without the leverage to help his brother. If Loki went mad and never recovered from his punishment, Thor would die too – not physically, but instead he would suffer a much slower, crueler type of death.

"I will be fine, Thor," Sif reassured him, her conviction even stronger. She knew that one day she would happily lay down her life for her friend, but she had always pictured it happening in battle. But perhaps this was also a battle of sorts, fought not with sword and shield, but rather with mind and willpower.

Sif squeezed Thor's hand, letting go and turning back to the seething vat. He did not move to stop her again, and for that she was thankful, because if she turned away again from the horrors she saw within it, she would not be able to look back.

Sif took the chalice and dipped it in the boiling liquid, feeling Mimir's steady gaze pinning her in place. The potion was cool where it brushed against her hand, and scorching and soft and barbed all at once.

As she raised the cup to her lips, she felt Thor's hands on her shoulders, a welcome warmth and support steadying and grounding her.

_I never even told you how I feel,_ she thought mournfully, seeing Thor's face and Loki's at the same time.

She was doing this for Him and for Them, for Thor and only for Thor, but for Loki as well. She loved Him, and only Them, the bright, golden prince who had given her a sword and his support against the scornful court when she grew bored of dolls and pretending, and the dark sorcerer-prince, the outsider, who knew her every mood and trouble and whose voice she would follow into the depths of Hel.

Her mind spinning, she took a drink.

oooooooooooooooooooo

His visions of Jotunheim being torn apart by the Bifrost were replaced by something he knew far better. For he had _seen_ these deaths with his own eyes, had caused them by his own hands, had _felt_ each individual life snuffed out through the haze of his rage and desperation.

"_My time has come," he gloated as soon as his mind found the Other's, playing his part of young conqueror with zeal._

"_Resistance?" The Other's sinister voice hissed in his head._

"_From a few. We'll pick them apart!" Loki responded with confidence. This was his defining moment; he knew that his army would most likely fall in the end, but then his path to the Tesseract would be clear. _

"_And the rest? Come and throng?" Loki paused at the Other's question; was he referring to the human civilians? He looked down at the streets hundreds of feet below, seeing them scurry about like ants. That was essentially what they were; he reminded himself: if they hindered his plans and escape here today, they would __**die.**_

"_Mow them down."_

_ooo_

_She ran for cover, ducking under cars along the way to avoid the death that rained down from the sky. The man behind her was not so lucky – the blue laser beam thing, whatever it was, hit him full on, removing the top half of his body from the rest of him. She screamed, tears running down her face. What was happening? Had the world gone insane, or was she just dreaming?_

_She was just rushing back to work (late again, but that couldn't be helped) when these _monsters _riding _flying chariots_ started shooting at everyone on the block. Aliens? Mutants? What was happening?_

_More shots destroyed the pavement around her, one beam of light hitting the car that she was hiding behind. She was cut by splintering glass and nearly burned by the flames that consumed the car. This place was no longer safe – she had to find some shelter, any shelter._

_Panicking pedestrians were crowding into the bank building across the street – if she could get there somehow, off of the streets, perhaps she would be protected from the monsters. _

_A few more flew by, shooting their laser beams at some fleeing pedestrians, and for the first time, she saw clearly what they looked like. _

_They didn't seem to be mutants to her, because some mutants, it was said, looked like normal humans. These things were more reptilian than anything, wearing mechanical-looking armor and helmets. Aliens, then? But how was this happening?_

_When the street was clear of invaders for a few seconds, and the heat of the flames became unbearable, she darted across the street to the building, so close yet so far, feeling as if she was in a nightmare that she could not wake up from._

_Other people also taking the opportunity to escape ran past her, pushing and shoving. She managed to find a place in the entryway, knowing that getting into the basement through the wall of hundreds of others would be nearly impossible._

_As she looked outside through the window she was wedged by, she saw that the brief respite was over – dozens of new chariots flew down the street, gunning down everyone and everything in their path. _

_The leader of the new formation was not an alien, but a young man who looked human – aside from a flowing green cape and a golden helmet with curved, wicked horns. He lead the alien reptiles, fury on his face as he fired a volley of shots at the fleeing civilians._

_The aliens followed his lead – in an instant, the street was transformed into a fiery scene right out of Hell. Men and women were torn apart by the lasers or cooked alive in their cars. She saw a family, two adults and their children, run screaming out of their burning truck, desperately trying to beat out the flames that covered their bodies. _

_They were not successful. _

_She closed her eyes and buried her head in her arms, knowing that if she just got through this, it would be over. She would wake up again in her apartment, creeped out from this batshit insane dream, and she would promise never to order take -out from that sketchy little restaurant ever again._

_She stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, blocking out the screams of terror and pain from the street. Soon it would be over, it had to be, this was too fucked up to be real…_

_But her mantra of denial was interrupted when she heard screams right __**next **__to her. She opened her eyes; the people standing directly in front of the door were backing away, hitting the solid wall of bodies behind them. _

_A group of aliens stood in the doorway, holding long metal sticks that had to be some kind of weapon. They herded the people further inside, and everyone backed up in panic, pushing against one another, making movement and escape impossible._

_One alien held up a blinking device – a type of communication? Some kind of bomb? And the others fired into the crowd, clearing a way for themselves as people pushed against each other, screaming, tripping over fallen bodies._

_The reptile holding the device hissed at them in a guttural language while the others sealed the doorway. She could hear her heart trying to pound it's was out of her chest, and over it, from what seemed like a distance, pleas for mercy and desperate prayers. _

_She looked around for another door or escape route, something, __**anything**__. Her eyes fell on a body right in front of her; its eyes were glassy in death, and a hole was blown clean through its stomach…_

_Her body did not feel like her own, and it couldn't be, she realized, because this was a dream, a horrible nightmare, and it __**couldn't**__ be real. No, she would definitely wake up any moment now. She felt her lips forming the Lord's Prayer, something she hadn't done in years. She wanted to laugh; what an insane trip this was, that it made her do things so completely out of character!_

_The creatures' voices rose together in a feral scream before the light and heat blasted the entire world into oblivion._

_She smiled as the fire consumed her. At least the nightmare was over…_

But Loki's nightmares were not. The visions of New York continued, one after another, until he begged for mercy, for deliverance, for death. In the space of a few minutes (_seconds? Hours?_) he saw through the eyes of all of those he had carelessly executed, from warriors to young children.

"_Mow them down."_

Had he known what would happen when he gave that order, when he lead his army on an assault though the streets? He had to have known; the sprawling city contained more than the mortal warriors with their primitive weapons and the Avengers. There were merchants, families, and civilians young and old; even wars among immortals counted such deaths as atrocities.

_What have I done?_

He wanted to defend himself against the horror of the visions, and his mind desperately tried to supply an acceptable excuse.

_I didn't know what would happen…_

_I was desperate to escape Thanos…_

_Mortal lifespans are so short, they would have died soon anyway…_

But no matter what justifications Loki made, they were silenced by the horror of his visions. Again, like his vision of Jotunheim, the attack on New York that he saw through civilian's eyes seemed genuine. He had even seen himself on a Chitauri flying craft, shooting at running humans as he had done in the actual invasion.

Loki begged for mercy from Odin, from the Norns, from whoever would answer his pleas, not caring if anyone heard him.

He would have preferred Thanos's old torture over this new change – at least then he could feel righteous anger. He could hate his father for raising him on lies, for making him believe that he was a monster even before he knew the truth of his parentage and Asgard's deceit.

Now, there was no righteous anger or lust for revenge that sustained him. He knew he did not deserve it, any more than he deserved to be freed from the Hel that he had made for others. He _was_ a monster, Jotun or not, and he could not blame anyone for his crimes but himself.

oooooooooooooooooooo

_The invading army easily overpowered the Realm's few untrained warriors, their axes, swords, and shields glinting in the sunlight as they painted the field red._

"Sif. _Sif!_ Can you hear me? Are you all right?"

_There were no survivors, for survival was not allowed. Those who fled the battle were chased and captured, to be killed at the King's leisure. The Mad King was tall and imposing, his dwarf-forged armor and blond hair splattered with his enemies' blood._

"What have you _done_ to her?! Fix this, or I shall kill you now, damn the consequences!"

_He held an axe in one hand, a glowing green gem in the other. He turned to the young man beside him, who wore equally elaborate armor, and gave his orders._

"_Find the rest and bring them to me."_

"_Yes, father." The young man smiled, satisfied; he was also covered in crimson from his deeds in battle. Unlike his father, who wielded an axe, he held a golden spear._

"It cannot be stopped until it is finished, fool! She must receive all of the knowledge that she bargained for."

_Villagers were lined up in front of the king and his son, not only warriors now, but also their wives, elders, and children. The king handed his son the green orb._

_The Mad King's axe flashed in the sunlight as he dispatched victim after victim, and the terrified prisoners begged for their families' lives. _

_It was all in vain; the king was in a beserker fury, unable to hear their pleas even without the sound of his son's steady chanting._

"Sif, listen to me! Whatever you are seeing, I will let no harm come to you!"

_As the prince's voice rose, not faltering even slightly over the ancient language, the gem pulsed, feeding on the terror and despair of the prisoners._

_As the axe fell again and again, and the chant reached its purest heights, the light of the gem seemed to consume everything around it; finally, the Mad King ceased his slaughter, as there were no more victims to behead, and the light of the gem faded._

_The prince ended his spell, gazing at the object in his hand. "It has fed well today, father," he stated, studying the gem. "Soon it will be complete and ready to join the others."_

_The Mad King grinned wide and feral, looking around the field at his work with satisfaction, before turning to the prince. "You have made me proud, my son. Soon we shall be thralls no longer."_

_They gathered their army and left the shattered village, death following in their wake._

"Sif! _Sif!_"

oooooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ Wow, that chapter was a bit…heavy. Sometimes I'm surprised at what my own mind comes up with. Can anyone guess what Odin and his father are doing in that flashback?

The part where Loki says "mow them down" is from an Avengers deleted scene called "The Other tells Loki to Lead". If you haven't watched it yet, do so, it's interesting in so many ways.

Ynath Esrith: Yes, Frigga is awesome. I sort of get annoyed when I read fanfiction where she doesn't have a will of her own either way. I'm glad you like my Thanos…sorta. He's crazy as hell, but I wanted to show the reasons for it. And yes, your theory on Loki and the Tesseract is correct! He is slowly but surely having a breakthrough. Thanks for reviewing!

Maia2: I'm glad you liked Frigga's abilities! I wanted to show the Jotuns' perspective since they probably suffered the most in all of this, and often seem to be ignored. Yes, that Mimir is a real piece of work isn't he? Thanks for reviewing!

angrbodagiantess: I find Thanos fascinating too – I mean, what drives someone to want to destroy all life in the universe? I'm glad you found my backstory for him interesting. Even the comic version of Thanos apparently shares a lot of similarities with Loki. Thanks for reviewing!

wolftattoo: Yep, Odin may be outwitting himself here. As you begin to see in this chapter, he has a lot to answer for in his past. I'm trying not to make him a total villain here, but I can understand how people might see him as one. Will he reap what he sows? We'll see! Thanks for reviewing!


	13. XIII

CHAPTER XIII

"How long will she be in this state?! If she does not recover, I will make you regret this."

_The prince watched his father pace in front of the fire like a caged animal. His battle axe lay propped against the wall, and more than once, he saw his father take a step towards it, as if he felt the urge to use it even with no enemies to fight._

"_We made no progress today! It should be complete by now… All of the others were by this time," the king hissed, shaking with rage and suppressed fear._

_The prince measured his reply before speaking. Whenever his father's temper rose, others around him paid the price unless they were exceedingly careful with their words and actions. He knew that his father would eventually blame him for the gem's inability to feed today; he would have to nurture his suspicions subtly and then misdirect them._

"_Perhaps my chanting caused our failure," he suggested quietly, making sure to sound suitably intimidated. He hoped that his ploy would work. "But my spells were sufficient for all of the others...this power may be harder to control."_

"She is _living_ the history you asked for, Odinson. She must experience all of it to truly know it. Have _patience."_

_His father rounded on him, looking at him fully as if he had just realized he was there. Despite himself, the prince felt a shiver run down his spine – it was never a good idea for anyone to monopolize all of the Mad King's attention at once. Usually, such people met violent ends – it was far better to let him sink under the tide of his own madness, and hope that there was a battle to distract him now and then._

_The king studied his son's face. There was still blood on his hands and armor from the struggle in Alfheim; the elves had not taken the destruction of their sacred forest well. The king's eyes were wild, but his son could see some of his old cunning break through the wall of his madness. He would have to play his part carefully now, or suffer the consequences._

"_All of the others," the Mad King mused quietly, his tone dangerous. "Your spells could harness the powers of the soul and of the mind, of time and of reality itself, but space is too much of a challenge for you?"_

"_Father, I think – "_

"_Enough, Odin," his father whispered, his eyes narrow and deadly. "Your chant should have worked, but somehow it did not. I have no more patience for your lies. Perhaps some time in the Cage will teach you the value of honesty." _

_The prince had spent enough time in the vipers' cage over the centuries to learn to thoroughly fear it. Normally, his father's threat would have him begging for mercy, but now, the king's anger could be turned to his advantage. _

_As long as he could convince his father that another was responsible for his failure, his deception would be overlooked._

_The prince knelt as his father approached him, ready to carry out his threat. He had found over the years that humbling himself like the most lowborn thrall tended to lessen or at least delay punishments; perhaps now his father would be satisfied enough with his humiliation to listen to him._

"_My king, please hear my words," the prince began quickly, only partially feigning his fear. "Thanos __**wants**_ _us to quarrel – he knows that if we stand united, we have a chance of ending him."_

_His father yanked his head up roughly by his hair, pulling out a good handful in his fury. But the prince also noticed a spark of curiosity in his eyes – he would have to state his case now if he wanted to regain his father's trust._

"_He provided us with materials for our bridge, which we have started using for travel. In return, we are bound to complete his gems, a task he has entrusted solely to us."_

"_What is your point? Why would he sabotage your work? I need you to complete the enchantments." His father still sounded furious, but the prince could tell that he was more interested in hearing his explanation than in punishing him – at least for now._

"_If we are not able to keep our side of the bargain, are not able to feed one of his gems, he does not have to honor our agreement. He can reclaim the parts of our bridge, keep his five complete gems, and he can eliminate his strongest rivals in the process – rivals who already know too much."_

_The King's eyes widened and he let go of his son, throwing him to the side of the room. The prince winced but resumed his argument, knowing that it was working. _

"_He never wanted us to succeed, which is why he gave us a defective gem. We must deceive him, beg for more time when he arrives for his payment, but prepare our army all the same." _

_The king paced again, considering his clever son's words. The prince had a way of discerning people's intentions, of looking beyond appearances and knowing whether they were truly friend or foe. It had helped his reign in the long run, and had paved the way for many glorious battles with those who put on polite faces but still thought to oppose him._

"_He is arrogant, and sure of his own strength –if we appear weak, we can lead him to his death before he suspects any betrayal," the prince continued, gaining more confidence as he went on._

_The Mad King looked out of the high window at his fledgling kingdom. Much gold and blood had been paid for Asgard to finally be united, and he had sacrificed almost everything to become its first king. He was not about to allow some outlaw from distant stars to ruin his legacy – he would show Thanos how betrayal was dealt with in Asgard._

_The Mad King turned back to his son, who was cautiously climbing to his feet._

"_And what of you, my son? Where do your loyalties lie?"_

_The prince's gaze was steady as he looked at his father, holding back his smile. His ploy had worked. "With the one true King of Asgard, of course."_

_ooo_

"What do you seek to gain from making enemies of us, Mimir? I don't see any cause for your grudge. We had no quarrel with you before this."

_The small moon was cold and desolate. Its soil was barren, for all that it had once supported life. The prince trudged through a small habitation – perhaps it had been a thriving town once. Now it appeared to be abandoned; he had encountered no sign of life yet on this Norns-forsaken rock, not even an insect. But he had traced the pathways between worlds that the Titan had used to travel to Asgard, and they all led back to this place._

_He stopped in front of what appeared to be a dwelling to rest. The house was larger than the others and more fortified; he assumed it had once belonged to a leader of this small kingdom. There was a sign in front of the door in a language that he could not read._

"What makes you believe that my grudge lies with you? I have lived a long life, Odinson, and I have suffered many slights that have yet to be atoned for."

"_You have travelled too far from Asgard, prince."_

_He jumped, cursing himself for not noticing the Titan's approach sooner. Thanos was as tall and strong as any Jotun, but he could be deceptively quiet and even unassuming, as the prince had noted before._

"_Your father will be unhappy to learn that you have slipped your leash."_

_The prince straightened and met Thanos's eyes. "He will never know of this conversation, for your secrecy will benefit us both."_

_The Titan laughed and the ground shook. "You seek an alliance."_

"_If you are wise enough to accept a good offer. Bor is mad, and his arrogance grows by the hour. He plans to ambush you with his army when you arrive for the final gem. Travelling by our bridge and moving armies to other realms is not enough to slake his thirst for blood. He desires the gems, and if he has them, he will hold the pulse of the universe in his hands."_

"_I would not be foolish enough to bring them with me all at once. They will be well-hidden," Thanos responded carefully, searching the prince's face for any sign of deception._

"_It matters not. We nurtured and fed them, and can trace their magic across the stars, wherever you hide them. But that is not my intent."_

"_You would betray your own father, and allow me to kill him, then. Why?"_

"What are you suggesting, Mimir? Do you seek to punish me for my father's actions? After he kept you alive in Asgard, and gave you the means to extend your life even further?"

_The prince smiled, looking like a wolf about to tear into his prey. "Bor's reign will not last much longer as it is. Nobles, servants, and thralls all whisper of his madness, and live in constant fear of his wrath. He has enslaved many of his own people, and the brandings, blood-eagles and hangings he has ordered are too numerous to recount. _

_But if I kill him myself, despised as he is, I will never be accepted as the new king. We do not take kindly to kinslayers in Asgard. But if __**you**__ strike the blow…I can speak of revenge, publically at least, and then be hailed as a hero."_

_Thanos frowned, irritated by the prince's partial, impersonal answer._

"_That is a political answer, and I despise politics. I asked you __**why**__ you would commit such a crime. Have you been wronged by him?"_

"Odin's mercy has done me little good, as you can see. Banished to this Hel after a lifetime of service. I can tell you things about your father that you would kill me for even uttering – but there is no need, as your woman is seeing the worst of it right now."

_The prince clenched his jaw, wondering how to respond. Had he been wronged by his father? He had suffered many punishments at his hands over the years, from whippings to being thrown in a cage with half-starved vipers. But he supposed it was a father's right to punish his son as he wished, and a king's right to rule as he pleased. _

_His father, when he was still well, had taught him all that he knew of magic before the prince inevitably surpassed him. And as he slid slowly into madness, the king had shown him the joys of battle, and how killing an enemy was the sweetest thing there was. Despite his ambivalence towards his father, the prince punished anyone he heard spreading gossip and lies about the king, even cutting out their tongues if he felt it necessary. _

_But Thanos's question stirred another memory, images from a day long past flitting through his mind. His mother's wide, glassy eyes staring off into eternity. The blood in her hair and the black bruises along the pale column of her throat. A servant desperately pulling him away and out of the room as his father's footsteps sounded in the hall. He never even discovered what happened to the body._

"_I…my mother must be avenged somehow. But it is not my place to strike the killing blow against my own father."_

"So this _is _about revenge, Mimir. You seek to turn me against my father."

_Thanos smiled slightly, his eyes distant as they moved over the crumbling house behind them, over the empty streets and barren terrain._

"_And what will you promise me in return, Odin Borson?"_

"_A gauntlet. An artifact of such power that it can hold all of your gems at once. When you go into battle, you can have all of them at hand, and use them in tandem."_

_Thanos grinned slowly, looking as if his dreams had just come true. _

"_I accept."_

_ooo_

_Columns of flames licked the battlefield, forming a wall between Thanos and the Mad King, and Asgard's disorganized, panicking army. _

_The king sank to his knees, clutching his axe in one hand and his bleeding, opened stomach with the other. _

"_This is the price you pay for your betrayal. Now you are left with nothing," Thanos sneered, circling his enemy, taking out his knife to finish his kill. _

_The Mad King laughed in response, throwing his axe with perfect accuracy despite his injuries. The blade landed in the center of Thanos's forehead, a strike that would have killed a normal opponent instantly._

_Thanos only groaned in pain, reaching up and pulling out the weapon embedded in his skull. The wound healed almost instantly after he removed the blade, and Thanos laughed at the king's frightened and bewildered look._

_He held up his newly- forged glove in pride. "With this weapon, I am invulnerable, even stronger than before," he gloated. "Compared to me, you are but an ant next to a god."_

_The wall of flames parted as the prince entered, the circle of fire closing behind him as he stood before Thanos._

_He held up the purple gem in his hand. "It is complete, my lord. With this you shall control all spaces in the universe."_

"If you have been wronged, will you accept payment to let us go free? I have gold, if you have use for it. I will pay with my blood if this satisfies you."

_Thanos grinned like a shark showing all of his teeth. _

"_I shall send this traitor to Valhalla, as we agreed. Then I will take the gem, and the gauntlet you forged for me will be complete."_

_The king looked from his son to Thanos, realization dawning in his eyes. _

"_I knew it! I knew you would betray me – my own son. Like all of the others." The Mad King was breathing hard, his life slowly trickling away onto the dirt. He looked back at Thanos._

"_What grand promises did the boy make you? I suppose I can take some comfort in knowing that they are all lies," the king sneered. "If he betrays his own kin, what do you think he will do to you?"_

"_You have said enough," Thanos snapped, approaching his fallen enemy and readying his knife._

_He did not look away even as his father's screams seemed to split the air itself. Eventually, his father stilled, the king's empty eyes still fixed upon his son. The prince watched, impassive, as Thanos stood, his task complete._

"I have no use for your gold or your blood any longer, Odinson. I wish only for your total destruction."

_He handed the Titan the gem, his heart pounding in anticipation. Thanos slipped the purple orb into its slot in the gauntlet, shaking in ecstasy. Finally, he had the means to fulfill his task. He would not be alone much longer, for soon he would see his beloved again._

_The space gem pulsed, its indigo light nearly blinding both men. Thanos shouted in confusion as the gauntlet twisted on his arm, suddenly red-hot. There was a blinding flash of pure white light, and an instant later, Thanos was gone._

_The wall of flames died down, and the prince slipped the fallen gauntlet over his arm. The warriors who had not fled approached him reluctantly, looking from their dead king to the prince, who was holding the invader's most feared weapon._

_One after another, the warriors knelt and held their fists over their hearts, swearing allegiance to their new king – the one true king of Asgard. _

"Then I must vow yours as well."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"_I only wish you would believe me, and know how deeply we mourned when you fell."_

His mother's words ran through his mind as the horrors of his invasion of Midgard were replaced by something far more unexpected, but not unwelcome.

_They found him standing at the end of the Bifrost once again, looking over the edge into the endless void of space. They knew that Thor ventured here for two reasons only: to inquire after Jane Foster on Midgard, and to secretly ask Heimdall if his brother had been found yet. _

_Sif wondered whether Thor meant dead or alive – did he ask after a body, or did he leave the question open, keeping the possibility that his brother still lived alive in his heart?_

_She knew that it would be nearly impossible to survive falling into an abyss created by the broken Bifrost. It was the lack of a body and a proper funeral, a lack of true closure, which tortured Thor and his family with endless "what-ifs."_

_Sometimes she too wondered if they were mistaken; one day Loki was here, sitting on his father's throne, and the next he was gone, fallen and lost to eternity._

_It was all so final and so sudden, and so wrong._

_Sif and the Warriors Three exchanged glances before dismounting their horses and joining Thor at the edge of the Bifrost, the edge of time and space and reality. _

Maybe Loki rests somewhere now in the Spaces Beyond, outside of the realms of the living, _Sif thought, following Thor's gaze into the empty void. _I wonder if he is happy there.

_Thor looked up at his friends, his eyes red, and smiled faintly. Volstagg wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Sif reached for his hand, their fingers twining together._

"_Where do you think he is now?" Thor asked quietly, his voice choked and unsteady._

"_In Valhalla, fresh out of the day's battles, with a maiden on each arm," Fandral answered without hesitation._

"_Enjoying the finest delicacies," Volstagg added, squeezing Thor's shoulder comfortingly._

"_He is at peace," Hogun added after a pause._

_Thor looked at Sif for confirmation, and she nodded. No matter what Loki had done in his final days, he had been Thor's brother and their friend. Her friend, as reluctant as she had once been to admit it. _

_Standing at the edge of the Bifrost, they forgot the last few days of betrayal and blood and pain and remembered the green-eyed boy who turned wine into snakes, who preferred knowledge and diplomacy over battle, who had fought by their side countless times._

_When the sun set at last and Thor was ready, they headed back to the palace together._

_ooo_

"_Frigga."_

_She wove without stopping, her eyes never leaving the tapestry of pure black threads. It had been this way since the funeral days past, when they sent a burning ship out to the stars without her son in it, which was both a relief and a terror all at once, because __**where was he**__ and her tapestry was black like death and she could not stop picturing his body floating somewhere among the cold uncaring stars torn apart by the abyss and – _

"_Frigga, please."_

_There had to be an answer in her weaving, it had never failed her before. If his life had truly ended, then she reasoned that she would not be able to weave anything at all, because there would be nothing more to tell, usually it worked out that way, sometimes not, but there was almost always a sense of closure instead of black darkness screaming torn apart left to suffer alone –_

"_**Frigga**__."_

_Strong arms pulled her away from her loom and she screamed, resisting her husband's embrace, blocking out his soothing whispers._

_A few moments later, once her breathing had slowed, she pulled away again and he let her go. None of this was right, none of this was finished. If she had seen her son die in battle, seen his body burned and sent out to the stars, she could accept it in time. A part of her heart would die with him, but there would be a sense of closure, of finality. None of this unbearable __**uncertainty**__, with the nagging sense that she was missing something terribly important._

"_He is gone, and he is never coming back," Odin said firmly, grief and anger in his voice, an anger not fully directed at her._

_She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he was wrong, but there were tears on his face too._

"_What did you say to him?" She asked after a pause, her voice cold._

"_What?"_

"_You said he let go. You caught him but he fell anyway. What did you say to our son that made him feel as if he had to take his own life?"_

_Odin paused, recalling the events on that fateful day on the bridge. He had just woken from a deep sleep, having heard Loki's and Thor's confrontation at his bedside, heeding his wife's desperate pleas to save their sons on the Bifrost before they both perished._

_He had caught Thor at the last possible moment as the bridge shattered, and Thor had caught Loki in turn. Jotunheim was burning underneath them, having barely escaped total destruction._

_Loki looking up at him, pleading with him: "I could have done it, father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us!"_

_And Odin's heart had broken then and there, because how could his son believe that he had to do this? To commit this terrible crime in order to win his pride, which he had felt all along?_

_He had responded "No, Loki," in his horror and grief, not thinking about how his words would be interpreted. And then his son was letting go a second later, spiraling down into the Abyss, and there were only Thor's desperate screams and the feeling of lightness that the lack of Loki's weight had left._

_There was also the profound sense of failure; he had wanted to be a loving father, to rise above his own father's mistakes, but the cycle only repeated itself. Perhaps this was his punishment._

_He told Frigga what he had said, and what he had meant, and she looked at him a long moment before turning and leaving the room without a word. He understood her response; after all, he had all but killed her son._

_He had said and done many unforgivable things over the course of his long life, and he tried to bury his past, carrying on despite the weight on his soul._

_But now his son was dead, and this was one mistake he would never be able to forget._

_ooo_

Loki woke again, silent despite the tears running down his face. He had wept many times in the past week, from fear to helpless anger to grief. But these tears were different; although they stung his eyes, they were cleansing, a type of relief, a balm for his soul.

He still did not know why his visions had changed, but perhaps it didn't matter. He knew that it was an important question, but he could not be bothered to answer it, with all of his conflicting feelings tugging at his heart.

He was a Jotun, and he was a monster, but somehow he was loved…his mother and brother had wept for him, and even Sif and the Warriors Three had remembered him fondly. And Odin…while he could not forgive his father for all that he had done, and perhaps never would….even Odin had mourned.

_I'm sorry, Mother. I understand your words now, and I never meant to cause you any pain._

_I would make things right, if I were not condemned to rot here._

Loki felt the chain around his numbing arms loosen, and he slid down the Tree, hitting the ground in surprise. He tried to move his arms, and found to his shock and pain that he could.

His shoulders were stiff and extremely sore from being strung up, but he held his wrists up anyway, noticing to his astonishment that the blackened runes along his forearms were fading. Which could only mean…

His magic came rushing back like the tide, soothing and completing him, the feeling of terrible _emptiness_ that had tormented him over the last days fading into nothingness.

Had he been alive at all since Odin had bound his magic and sent him here? Because now it felt as if half of his soul had been missing, only to suddenly be returned in an instant. He had not fully realized what he was missing.

Loki laughed joyfully, slumped against the Tree, unconcerned with anything except savoring the moment. There had been so much to endure these past few days, so much hatred and pain and fear and love and now all he wanted was to rest, even if it was just for a moment.

If only…

As Loki opened his eyes again, he saw to his horror that the world was a familiar shade of Blue.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

_a/n:_ Aaahhhhhhhh cliffhanger! Don't worry, this is mostly a good thing for Loki. I promised more bamf moments and powers and I shall deliver ;)

Maia2: Yep, Loki and Sif are both suffering similar things at the same time….hmmm, I wonder how that will play out ;) I think that Loki is learning how to empathize again, though it is not an easy lesson to learn. Thanks for reviewing!

Ynath Esrith: Yep yep you're right! That is definitely true, sometimes Loki is so caught up in his own pain that he forgets about others' suffering. Which is not entirely his fault, but still a hard lesson to learn. Thanks for reviewing!

Polka dot: Thanks! The New York scene definitely made Loki feel some remorse. Thanks for reviewing!

angrbodagiantess: Thanks, I'm glad my Sif is (somewhat?) relatable and likeable. I didn't think she hated Loki or was just a bitch for the sake of being a bitch in the movie. Yeah, Odin and Bor are doing some very evil things. Hope I explained that more in this chapter. I think Frigga knew that this would happen, and I think it was absolutely a lesson that Loki needed. That deleted scene was awesome, and I loved how snarky Loki was with the Other. Thanks for reviewing!


	14. XIV

CHAPTER XIV

Loki gasped, barely holding back a scream. It felt as if two holes were being drilled through his eye sockets straight into his skull. The entire cave, everywhere he looked, was that horrible shade of blue that had haunted him between visions for the past week, or longer. Loki groaned as the pounding in his head worsened and he closed his eyes.

The blue didn't leave him even with his eyelids closed, however, and Loki reached up to make sure that his eyes were indeed shut. They were, but he could still see the entire cave painted azure as clearly as if they were open.

_What new ordeal is this!? _He thought, panicked. _The punishment is technically supposed to be over…_

He bit back a scream as the pain worsened. It felt like a herd of raging Bigelsnipe was stomping around all over the inside of his skull. He grabbed his hair with his hands and buried his face in his knees, breathing hard.

Eventually, the pain and blue subsided enough for Loki to sit up and risk opening his eyes again. When he did, he knew that he would have screamed, if he had not been shocked speechless by what he saw.

The blue was gone, but it was replaced by something far more strange and troubling. The walls of the cave were woven together by countless golden threads, each crisscrossing with a thousand others, so tangled and woven that he did not know where one thread ended and the next began. As he squinted, focusing, he saw the rock's smooth surface, as it had been centuries ago, how it was now, holding him, and how far eroded the walls would be millennia in the future.

With his heart pounding, Loki looked down, his eyes falling to his arms. Again, there were countless years where each golden thread crossed with its neighbors. He was seeing everything; his entire being all at once in one moment, as well as each individual instance that helped create the whole, the smallest slices of time possible.

_What __**is**__ this? A side-effect of being under the Tesseract's influence for so long?_

_When will I return to normal?_

Loki tried to steady his breathing and push down the panic rising inside of him. It had to be because of exposure to the Tesseract – but then again, he had seen though the cube before his invasion of Midgard without any unwelcome lingering effects.

_Maybe the length of time is what matters,_ Loki reasoned, hoping to find a logical explanation for his new ordeal. _Back on Thanos's planet, I only saw through the Tesseract for a few minutes at a time, never __**days**__._

Which brought him to his next question that had far more disturbing implications: _What if this new change is permanent?_

Loki looked around the cave, rubbing his eyes as if he could wipe away this new horror. But no matter where he looked, he saw each golden strand of space-time and how they all wove together to form his current reality.

Past, present, and future, all and none at the same time, and something completely different.

_The Allfather, _Loki realized with a sudden flash of inspiration, _only Odin would be able to remedy this._

Loki remembered his vow to have vengeance against his adoptive father, sincere at the time, though he was less sure of how he felt now. He could accept Odin's help in the present and then kill him later, or else plot some other unenviable fate for him over time.

But Loki was tired of feeling Odin's influence in every aspect of his life; if he begged for help now, in his vulnerable state, he would only be giving the Allfather one more card to play against him later.

And Loki took care of himself, first and foremost. If there was one thing he would never forfeit, it was his pride.

Loki sat back against the Tree, determined to learn how to control his new Sight. He studied the patterns of the golden threads, noting how they wove together and how space and time flowed as a result. As his mind wandered, his awareness was caught on the dark threads that comprised Thanos's magic.

Thanos did not draw on Yggdrasil for his sorcery, but on the energy from the dark spaces beyond. He was a somewhat clumsy sorcerer, making up for his lack of finesse in the craft with his brute strength in manipulating the elements. Perhaps, given more time, passion, and better materials to work with, he could rival Loki or even Odin himself.

But since Thanos was clumsy, and not a sorcerer at heart, he had carelessly left traces of his magic behind in the cave when he had tied Loki's mind to the Tesseract.

Loki remembered Thanos's parting words before he had left him to his fate: _And then Asgard will fall._

Thanos was readying and rebuilding the brunt of his forces, perhaps travelling to Asgard even then, though Loki was not sure how he had found the means.

Regardless, Thanos did not enjoy waiting and certainly did not make empty threats. If he had resurrected the Chitauri, then Asgard could be in immediate danger.

_And why should I care if it is?_

The question rose in Loki's mind unbidden, years of bitterness darkening his thoughts.

Asgard's people considered his kind to be monsters, and if they had known about his ancestry before, he surely would not have survived as long as he had. The fact that they were unaware made no difference; Loki knew that his secret was living on borrowed time, and that the truth would come to light eventually, to Asgard's shock and horror.

What then?

He had always been somewhat of an outsider in Asgard's eyes, never hated or openly disliked for his differences, but still regarded warily nonetheless. The open hatred had begun after his return home in chains; now his only saving grace in the eyes of the people was his assumed relation to Odin.

If even that was taken away, then he was less than nothing in their eyes.

_If I am only a monster to be despised and feared, then perhaps they do not need my help._

Now that he had his magic back, he could escape before Thanos arrived and Asgard burned. Surely such an outcome was best for everyone – Loki would escape further punishment from the Titan, and Asgard would have a chance for another glorious battle after a thousand years of waiting, with no magic tricks to taint their glory.

Except it wouldn't be a battle, it would be a slaughter, and the highest death toll would not be on Thanos's side. Even if many Chitauri died, they could be replaced easily enough in a short amount of time. Loki knew that Thanos was a technological genius, and that he had created far more soldiers already than he had gifted for Loki's pathetic force on Midgard.

If Thanos intended to attack Asgard, then he would make certain of his own victory first.

Loki's mind wandered back to his latest visions. If Asgard fell, then what would become of his mother? Thor? Sif? If they did not fall in battle, they would be left to Thanos's mercy, and he would not let them die quickly.

They would suffer first, before being offered as sacrifices.

Loki had experienced a taste of Thanos's cruelty during his stay on that dark planet; what made him more apprehensive was the fact that Thanos had not intended to break him, but only to shape him.

If Thanos truly intended to torture someone, then he would not limit his creativity and cruelty.

Loki knew that he had to do something to protect the few people who cared whether he lived or died, but he was not sure what.

Thanos's magic prickled at his senses. If only he could discover where Thanos was now, and what his new means of travelling between worlds was….

Loki focused on the traces of dark magic, letting them fill his entire awareness. The cave seemed to disappear before him, replaced by an inky dark sky with smatterings of distant stars. Slowly but surely, a Chitauri fleet was navigating the spaces between worlds, cautiously following the path that the Tesseract's portal had left behind. Loki would have been afraid of capture, if it were not for the feeling of the Tree still pulsing against his back.

From here, he could safely map their entire route.

_Perhaps this is what Odin intended all along._

Loki spoke aloud, knowing that Heimdall would hear him.

"Tell Odin that I intend to remain here just a while longer."

ooooo

"He is free, and he says that he wishes to stay for a while longer."

Odin listened to Heimdall's report, daring to hope that his plan was working. During the past few days, he had consulted with his generals and had drafted battle plans, preparing to mobilize Asgard's forces. Asgard had not fought the Chitauri before, but they had vulnerabilities that he hoped to exploit. He prayed that Thanos had overlooked his army's flaws again out of overconfidence, but the Allfather knew that Thanos had grown far more cunning since their last meeting.

If he only knew where in Asgard the Chitauri would attack first after leaving the spaces between worlds, their defense would be much more likely to succeed. He had increased security around the Tesseract, and had also hidden the other relics from his vault with similar protections. The gauntlet, however…the gauntlet would never leave his sight. Odin felt the comforting weight of it on his arm, the smooth metal and glowing gems covered by an illusion.

He would use it if he had to. Even if its power destroyed all of Asgard, Thanos would never get what he was after.

"Is he well?"

Heimdall's unfathomable gaze met his own. Odin did not envy Heimdall's senses at that moment – he himself would not have been able to bear watching the punishment, knowing that he could do nothing to stop it without sacrificing his kingdom as a result.

"Well enough to break free," Heimdall responded after a pause. "But he is ill, and weak. And what the Tesseract has done to his mind, even I cannot know."

Odin nodded. He would have to address it later.

"And my other son? Has he made a bargain?"

Heimdall shook his head, his eyes focused on the wilds of Asgard. "Lady Sif has bargained in his place. She suffers from receiving the forgotten knowledge as we speak."

Odin had hoped that his son would choose a different route than consulting Mimir, but perhaps things would work out yet. Asgard had the means to help Sif, and when she was well enough, she would inform Thor of what she saw. Thor would get a fuller story from Mimir's potion than he ever would from his father.

_He must learn to seek knowledge on his own, as I once had to._

"Will Mimir present a problem?"

"He has just vowed to destroy your son."

The Allfather swore and teleported back to the palace, summoning his ravens.

While Thor needed to learn to fend for himself, he was not about to let his firstborn son die because of his silence about his past.

ooooo

Sif lay motionless in Thor's arms, her face pale and her breathing shallow. Her eyes were open but unfocused as she stared up at something that he could not see.

Thor gripped Mjolnir tight in his other hand, wondering what to do. Mimir claimed that if Thor destroyed the tubes that fed him and sustained his life, then he and Sif would die as well. His first thought was that it was merely a bluff, a way for Mimir to trick his way into gaining some leverage. Now that he had seen more of the disgraced sorcerer's magic, he was less sure.

There was no exit that Thor could see, and he was almost certain that if tried to destroy a stone wall, some sorcery would prevent it.

Thor's breath hitched as he remembered Mjolnir feeling heavy in his hand less than an hour ago; Mimir's dark magic could even prevent him from using the weapon that he had already proven himself worthy of.

And now Mimir refused to listen to reason, and had vowed to kill him.

_What would Loki do in a situation like this?_

Thor's mind jumped back to his little brother. Loki was not as strong as he was, and had never won as much glory in battle on their adventures, but he always had a talent for getting their group out of tricky situations that required cunning over brute strength.

The problem was, Loki would probably know how to counter some of Mimir's magic, or would be able to discern if he was lying about any of his abilities. Thor knew next to nothing of use about sorcery, so that route was closed to him.

_If Loki were in an unfamiliar situation, where even his prior knowledge was of no use…what would he do?_

"I will relish the look on Odin's face as he finds your cold corpses," Mimir spat, and the stone walls around them were suddenly covered with razor-sharp blades.

Thor looked around in panic; there were knives and iron spikes embedded into each of the walls, and to his horror, he saw that the stone slabs were slowly closing in on them.

So slow, and inefficient…almost as if Mimir wanted to use the time to gloat.

_That's it! Mimir loves to trade insults. Loki would keep him distracted, and needle him about his past. Mimir seems emotional enough about it; perhaps then he will make an error._

"My father was wrong about you," Thor began, his tone inviting but disinterested.

"What?!" Mimir spat, and Thor was relieved to note that the spiked walls had stopped moving for the time being.

"It is nothing he said, for he never speaks of you. I mean that he was wrong to shut you away here; if I was in his place, I would never have tolerated such a disgrace on my kingdom and my people. I would have found a way to execute you for the crime of using forbidden seidr," Thor sneered, his voice harsh.

"_You know __**nothing**__!"_ Mimir screamed, and the potion in the vat boiled over the rim in response to his fury.

"Your father is a liar and a coward! He sent me here to ensure that Asgard never discovered our magical experiments," Mimir continued with a deranged smile, showing all of his broken teeth.

"My father would never – "Thor responded, feigning anger.

"Oh, but he did!" Mimir gloated, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "He wanted to know how a being would become truly immortal, and if there is, in fact, a way to kill one with such power. We practiced seidr together since his youth; and when he became king, he gave me the _honor_ of becoming our first test subject."

Thor felt sick, and he knew that he should respond, and continue to goad Mimir, but no words came to mind. His own ploy was being used against him.

"But it became an issue after Svartalfheim, of course. I was publically executed by the elves; if word got out that I had lived because of forbidden sorcery, it would mean disgrace for Asgard and Odin's house. He was not man enough to finish me off himself, so he banished me here to rot."

"You are a liar," Thor responded, trying hard to sound firm. "I bet none of that is true. He just pitied you, and for good reason."

Mimir laughed, loud and desperate. "Deny it if you want, Odinson. No matter what, I will have my revenge."

The walls began to close in on them again, moving faster than before. Thor dropped Sif and summoned his lightning, preparing to strike Mimir with it. It illuminated the walls, nearly blinding him. He sent a powerful bolt directly at Mimir's laughing face. It would not kill the sorcerer, but perhaps it would interrupt his spell –

There was a sudden flash of feathers and Thor's lightning was deflected, scorching the opposite wall. Thor squinted, surprised, and saw a large raven hovering in front of Mimir, its wings unfurled.

"Hugin!"

A second raven landed on Thor's shoulder, cawing a greeting. "Munin!"

Thor grinned, relieved that his father had sent help. He would gladly accept it.

Mimir shouted in frustration at seeing Odin's famed familiars. "You _see!? _The Allfather is such a coward that he cannot even face me himself!"

Hugin flew up to Mimir, opening his beak wide. Mimir screamed as the knowledge that fueled his spell was torn away, and the barbed walls stopped moving, only inches away from Thor and Sif.

As Mimir struggled against the raven's power, Munin left Thor's shoulder and flew to the left wall, pecking at a gap between the spikes. The walls expanded once again, and a staircase appeared in the center of the room. Munin looked back at Thor and cawed again, flying up to the next story.

Thor gathered Sif in his arms and followed the raven up the steps. The second hidden story of Mimir's house contained a wooden corridor with several rooms on each side. Thor looked into one, and to his horror, he saw a massive pair of lungs nearly filling the entire room. Resisting the urge to be sick, Thor followed Munin down the hall, looking into another room as he walked, seeing what could only be an oversized brain.

_Are these organs Mimir's?_ Thor questioned, wondering why the raven was leading him here.

Munin turned right, flying into a room at the end of the hall. Thor stepped in reluctantly, and was faced with a gigantic beating heart. He looked to Munin, who perched once again on his shoulder.

"Is this Mimir's heart?"

The raven cawed in affirmation.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

The raven seemed to roll its eyes in an absurdly human gesture and looked down deliberately at Mjolnir.

"You – you want me to destroy it? But Mimir will die, and then we will be trapped to die with him…"

Munin looked steadily at him, as if saying _trust me._

Thor swallowed, his heart pounding in his ears. He gently set Sif on the floor in the hall and stepped back into the room that housed Mimir's spelled heart.

_This would be a murder, since I would not be killing him face-to-face._

Thor knew that he had no other choice. If he did nothing, they were trapped, and perhaps Mimir would eventually get the better of even Hugin and Munin. Sif was still unwell, and they needed to get back to the palace and find a healer as soon as possible.

And perhaps Mimir would finally be at peace, free from the Hel that Odin had supposedly left him in. Thor wished that he could help him in a better way, but he would not keep trying and pay with his and Sif's lives.

Thor braced himself and summoned his lightning, hoping to end it in one strike. He sent all of his power at the heart. It shriveled and twisted under the beam of energy, and its beating stopped.

Thor felt the floor shift under him, and he shouted in confusion. The next thing he felt was his knees hitting the dirt of the forest floor. Sif was beside him, unconscious but breathing, and Hugin and Munin were perched on his shoulders once again.

The spelled house in front of them seemed to fold in on itself, disappearing into the void in front of Thor's eyes as if it had never existed. In its place was the body of a white-haired man, his features still but peaceful in death.

He recognized that face from long ago – it was Mimir, without a doubt.

Thor sat still for a long moment looking into nothingness, his hands shaking, trying to process what had just happened. When he returned to his senses, he noticed their horses still tethered to a nearby tree, jumping and terrified.

Sif stirred beside him, sitting up and looking around in confusion. Thor pulled her into his arms without hesitation, his sobs making his chest heave.

"Thor, you did it," Sif whispered into his hair, clutching him just as tightly.

When they finally broke apart, they turned back to Mimir, lying motionless on the ground.

"Thor, is that man _Mimir_?"

"We should take him back to the palace, and ensure that he has a proper funeral," Thor stated, his voice hollow.

"Thor, are you sure that's – "

"It is the right thing to do. It is the **least** I can do," Thor responded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Then we must speak about what I saw afterwards."

"Yes. We have much to discuss."

Thor and Sif climbed to their feet, preparing to return home.

ooooo

_a/n_: This is a turning point in my story, Loki is free and Thor is going back home, so more brofeels in the next chapters I hope. What will Thor do with these new revelations? Hmmmmm….

Maia2: Yep, my Odin is sneaky, just like in mythology :) I hope Mimir's story satisfies (if he is telling the truth…) Things are going to start looking up for Loki now, I too am proud of him. Thanks for reviewing!

TechieNinja18: Thanks for reviewing! Glad you're enjoying it! I don't like Sif and Odin in some fanfics either, I'm happy you find them more relatable here.

angrbodagiantess: Odin was supposed to be a bit of a trickster in mythology…and well, Loki had to learn it somewhere ;) Thanks, I liked writing the Thanos history scenes, I'm glad they were interesting! I think Frigga would suffer the most maybe from Loki's death, so I used the weaving to symbolize that, so happy you picked up on it! Thanks for reviewing!


	15. XV

CHAPTER XV

As soon as Loki whispered the location of the portal between Asgard and the Void, stabs of white-hot pain nearly blinding him as he traced the conclusion of Thanos's path, he felt the darkness rush up behind his eyes to fold him in a soothing veil of nothingness.

ooooo

For the longest imaginable expanse of time, he did not see, move, or think. An inky darkness surrounded him, and he remained in a comfortable state of oblivion. Sounds and other sensations would sometimes filter in; voices, the feel of a soft pillow and the warmth of blankets, a cool cloth on his forehead, instructions, and whispered pleas. He did not react to the sensations, but only held an awareness that they were there.

After another eon, he was aware of heat, an inferno cooking him from the inside out, confusion and desperation, and more soothing words. These hazy moments would often be followed by a return to the familiar soothing blackness, and he found the rest a relief, though he was not aware of it on a conscious level.

He knew on a more basic level of his being that he was in another Abyss, another variation of all-encompassing darkness, but he felt no fear or pain in that blissful state of non-awareness, only peace. Whenever he felt the flames and confusion, which was more and more often now, he longed to return to the place where he saw nothing, was concerned about nothing, and felt no pain.

When Loki woke again, he did not know where he was, and it felt like he had slept for a thousand years.

The dim light filtering into the room stung his sensitive eyes, and as he tried to sit, feeling as weak as a newborn kitten, a pair of hands gently pushed him back down.

"You need to rest, my son," a familiar voice urged.

Loki closed his eyes again, resisting the urge to pout like a child as his mother doted on him. He settled into the familiar soft blankets again, his body almost unable to process such comfort after being denied it for so long. A bed and pillows – _his_ bed and pillows - how long had he gone without them? He had taken such comforts for granted at one point in his life.

"It feels like I've slept for centuries already, mother," Loki murmured, and was on the verge of drifting back into sleep when his memories of Midgard, Thanos, and his punishment came rushing back.

His eyes shot open and he rushed to sit up again, slumping against the headboard in his weakness.

"Mother! Thanos – has Odin sealed the path –"

Frigga shushed him and smoothed back his tangled hair, hugging him tightly.

"Asgard is safe, thanks to your information. Many lives would have been lost without it."

Loki hugged her back tentatively, noticing for the first time that she felt thinner than he remembered. Guilt mingled with his relief; had he caused this? Even if his recent war crimes and his punishments were not the only reasons for her stress, his actions certainly had not helped. Loki realized that he had not truly considered his mother in a long time – not in the Abyss, nor on Midgard, nor on the Tree. His hatred for Thor and Odin had overshadowed everything else.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble I've brought you," Loki whispered, horrified. "You deserve better than a monster as a son."

Frigga froze for a second and then pulled away, raising his chin so that his eyes would meet hers.

"You are not a monster, no matter what blood runs through your veins. _Never_ let me hear you say that again." Frigga's voice was steely and Loki was somewhat terrified – she was using the same tone that had always encouraged his immediate obedience as a child. He was surprised that it still affected him; even after all that he had seen and done.

"What makes you think I'm speaking of my blood? Are my actions not reason enough?"

Loki's question seemed to echo in the silence of his room as Frigga considered him, searching for an answer. Her gaze was distant and Loki could see many millennia in her eyes. She looked at him again after a pause and took his hands in her own.

"When you have lived as long as I have, Loki…you will realize how time truly rules all things. People can change, and atone in their own time, if they choose to… and there's something else I must discuss with you soon. But I have met few who are truly beyond redemption."

"Even Thanos? Even me?" Loki felt like a terrified child again, asking for reassurance that there were no monsters in his closet – except now, he had _become_ the monster that he had always feared.

Frigga smiled reassuringly. "_Especially_ you. You would not have ended your punishment and warned Asgard if you felt no remorse, when you could have simply left when you regained your strength. As for Thanos… I don't think Thanos _wants_ to change yet."

"Neither did I, until a few days ago – "Another idea occurred to him. He had no idea how long it had been since he was last truly conscious. "How long was I...asleep?"

"Three days." Frigga eased him down into the soft pillows again, and Loki did not resist, exhausted as he was from sitting for too long a moment.

"You had a high fever, and your father had to visit right after closing the portal to correct your vision. You kept speaking about your eyes, and what you were seeing," Frigga recalled, sounding worried. "I thought that the punishment had caused that – perhaps hanging on the Tree for so long."

"Maybe Odin knew how to fix it from experience," Loki muttered, more to himself than Frigga, recalling the old legend about his adoptive father. "Did I say anything else?" Loki was unnerved that the last three days were a near-blank in his memory.

"You spoke sometimes afterwards, but not in a language I understood…not a language of the Nine Realms." She looked at him with a wary curiosity, and Loki could not meet her eyes. His travels after falling from the Bifrost were filled with horrors that he would rather forget. He did not want his mother to know how far he had fallen, what dark creatures he had conversed with on his journey.

"During your moments of fever, you would shift forms sometimes, from Aesir to Jotun and back," Frigga continued quietly, and Loki shuddered involuntarily.

"I'm sorry."

Frigga shook her head and smiled gently. "I have seen it many times before. You were often feverish as a baby, as Odin's spell was still taking hold – perhaps it is harder for a Jotun child to adjust to this climate. But you did. And even when you looked Jotun, you acted no differently from any Aesir child that age. Though you were less impulsive than Thor," she added as an afterthought.

"I'm sure," Loki added dryly, considering her words. He knew that Frigga had always been aware of what he was, but he assumed that he had always looked Asgardian once Odin had brought him back from Jotunheim. He wasn't sure why he had that notion, but if Frigga saw him regularly as a blue-skinned monster and was still not disgusted…what did that mean for his life in Asgard now?

"Your blood does not have to shape your fate, Loki. You are our son, and we love you."

Loki looked at her but said nothing, thinking of the mutual hatred between the Asgardians and the Jotuns. Perhaps he could change, rise above the importance he placed on his parentage, but that did not mean that anyone else besides his mother and perhaps Thor could. Still, if the Queen of Asgard, who had seen so much destruction in the war could find it in her heart to love him like her own son, perhaps, in time….others might accept him as well.

"I love you too, mother."

Frigga smiled and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the nearby table and handed it to him. Loki drank quickly, the cool water a welcome balm to his parched throat. Water was something else he had missed. He noticed that it tasted strange, almost like medicine, before his eyelids grew heavy again and he sank back down into his pillows.

Loki heard Frigga fussing over how thin he had become and how Thor would visit after he had rested as he drifted slowly off to sleep.

Something nagged at the back of his mind, however, that brought a hint of unease to his general sense of peace. Something he was forgetting, something he had to do…

As Loki finally lost consciousness, the answer came to him at last: _Midgard._

ooooo

Loki was finishing pulling on his usual clothes without his exhausted supply of magic, deciding if he should speak to Odin about Midgard, when he heard a knock on his door. He knew instantly who it was from hearing that same knock all throughout his life, but he pretended that it sounded unfamiliar anyway.

"Who is it?" Loki tucked a small blade in his sleeve just in case. He knew that Thor would probably just want to dote on him and remind him of their centuries of brotherhood, but the knife was a comfort nonetheless. He had been running on adrenaline ever since he had fallen from the Bifrost, and the years' lack of food and sleep was finally catching up to him now, making him too weak to fight. Loki still remembered Thor's mocking laugh on the edge of the Abyss, and Thor's hand opening as he let go of him as he was struggling to hold on.

Even if it was never true, it was hard to simply forget about. And after all that Loki had done, Thor had no reason to love him.

Another knock.

"Can I come in or not, Loki? Are you decent?"

Loki sighed, trying to calm his sudden nerves. "Yes, come in."

The door swung open and Thor stepped in uncertainly. Loki frowned, taking in his adoptive brother's appearance. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, and his hair was tangled and unwashed. He had gone even longer than he usually did without shaving.

The biggest change, Loki noted, was in Thor's eyes. Thor looked…older somehow, and less optimistic and carefree than he had always been before, even after their return home to Asgard almost two weeks ago. What had happened? Was Loki responsible for this as well?

The silence hung unwelcome in the room for a moment longer as Thor studied Loki in turn. Loki felt a sudden urge to speak first; Thor had always reached out to him, at least recently, but perhaps he was the one who was lost now.

Loki would try to bring him back.

"What's happened?"

Thor's gaze sharpened, a hint of anger moving over his features, before his shoulders slumped in resignation.

"I was…I was just visiting Sif."

Loki frowned, confused. Why would Thor have to visit Sif? Was she injured? His mother had just said that there was no battle in Asgard because Odin had closed the path.

"Why would you have to visit her? Is she injured?"

Thor looked away, guilt in his eyes. "In a manner of speaking." He looked at Loki again, debating whether or not to continue. Loki met his eyes steadily.

"We both visited the sorcerer Mimir a few days past to beg his knowledge."

"_Excuse_ me?"

Loki wondered if he had heard correctly, because Thor's words were just so _absurd. _Perhaps he had gone completely mad on the Tree after all.

Thor stepped further into the room, looking around and not quite meeting Loki's eyes.

"I thought it was important, brother…to learn more of Thanos."

Loki could practically feel his jaw hitting the marble floor. _He_ had almost visited Mimir several centuries ago when he was developing a means to travel without the Bifrost, which he now knew only Odin, and to a lesser extent Thanos, had ever mastered.

Loki had been very close to achieving it, and had wanted to confirm one of his hypotheses, but the rumors of Mimir's madness had kept him away. As far as he knew, only those who were desperate for otherwise unobtainable knowledge took the risk – and he never would have suspected Thor to be one of them.

"First of all, are you _mad? _And what happened to Sif?"

Thor sank into one of Loki's chairs, his gaze distant. "While you are the last person who should be accusing anyone of madness, you may have a point. I thought I could control the situation…protect us…but I was wrong." Loki noticed that Thor's eyes were red and his voice was shaky. He moved to sit down across from Thor, disturbed by this sudden change in his otherwise cheerful brother.

"We had to make a blood bargain, but I didn't realize what it was at the time. I was not…myself. Sif made the bargain in my place and she had to drink. We saw…we saw no other way." He looked up at Loki, as if for reassurance.

"What then?"

"She drank his evil potion and saw…many horrible things. Things she wishes she could forget seeing, and things I wish I had never asked to hear."

Loki knew that Thanos was obsessed with death and killing, and that Mimir's potion would reveal his cruelty, but Thor was a warrior, and had ended many lives himself since he began fighting for Asgard. What new knowledge had unsettled him so much?

"What did she see, Thor?"

"Odin. Odin and his father made weapons for Thanos."

Loki stared at Thor in shattered shock, not quite comprehending what he was hearing. He had always had questions about his adoptive father's past, and he suspected that Thanos harbored a grudge against Asgard, but he would have never guessed that they were once allies.

"Odin and Bor…they killed people to make this weapon. So many innocent people, Loki…and in return they got the early Bifrost. Then Odin…betrayed his father. Thanos killed him. Then Odin used his own creation against Thanos, and banished him to the far reaches of space," Thor continued quietly, his voice unsteady.

"Sif was unwell, not responsive. Mimir tried to kill us, and eventually Hugin and Munin saved us. I killed Mimir myself. And before…I learned that Odin…used him as a test subject, as a _tool_, but I cannot fathom why. I cannot fathom why he did all of this," Thor sounded angry for the first time, and Loki was glad – he would rather see Thor furious than numb.

"So you were able to return. But Sif is still unwell?" Loki was concerned despite himself – Sif had been a constant source of irritation for him over the centuries, but she was still a friend, as reluctant as he was to admit it. He hoped that she would not be harmed permanently by Mimir's dark sorcery.

"She was well for a time, and we buried Mimir together, near the palace. But now she is weakened by his dark sorcery, and slips in and out of visions – parts of Mimir's knowledge that she gained when she drank. Mother and the healers are tending to her…perhaps, in time, she will be well…" Thor's voice trailed off, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Loki moved to his side and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She is strong, and if anyone can pull through, it is her."

Thor smiled up at him, taking some confidence from Loki's words. But Loki still had questions of his own.

"Why would you take such a risk, Thor? You have not explained that. Have you not heard the warnings about making such bargains?"

"I was _desperate_, Loki. Father would not speak to me about the Thanos you mentioned. I needed to know who he is, what he is capable of…"

"_Why_?"

Thor shot to his feet, grabbing Loki's shoulders. "Because I could not sit idly by while you were being _tortured_ by him, Loki! I bound you there, and then I was told I could do nothing but wait while you _went mad_!"

Loki glared at Thor, stepping out of his reach. "What do you think you could have done, you idiot!? If you had interfered, you would have been punished as well!"

"So be it! You are still my brother, even if I am not yours. I do not want to rule a kingdom one day where it is considered acceptable to torture family for sport and profit."

Loki felt tears forming again in his eyes, and he tried to push them back. Why did Thor still believe in him, after he had suffered so much at Loki's hands? Would Thor be able to look beyond Loki's blood now, for all that Loki had doubted such a possibility in the past?

"I am well, Thor. You did not need to put yourself and Sif in danger to help me. I have stopped Thanos, and gained powers you can only _dream_ of," Loki gloated.

Thor stared at him, concerned, not accepting Loki's bluff. "You are more like you were before all of this, less vengeful and desperate, but still different. You have suffered too much, seen too much. You don't have to pretend to be fine…around me. I am supposed to protect _you_."

"I had no protector when I was being torn apart in the Abyss, Thor. I _called_ for you, for anyone, but nobody heard!" Loki felt his unshed tears spilling over his cheeks now. Love and anger warred in his chest, and he wanted more than anything not to _feel._ Not to have to know all of these contradictions that pulled him every which way, tearing him apart as effectively as any torture.

Thor pulled him into his arms, nearly crushing Loki in his embrace. "I would have gladly taken your place, if I had known. I swear it on every realm of Yggdrasil. I am so sorry…I should have heard, brother. I should have known."

"You should not love me, or ever forgive me. Do you not know what I've done, what I _am?" _Loki buried his face in Thor's shoulder, feeling like he was home, safe and wanted. Only he knew that he did not deserve it.

"You are my brother, the only brother I have ever known. I would not change your blood, if that might change _you_ as well. And while I cannot forgive you for everything yet… I will always be here for you."

"Thank you, brother," Loki whispered, hugging Thor back. He never wanted to pull away, to leave. _This is my home. It has been all along._

The earlier unease tugged at the back of Loki's mind again, however, and he pulled away a moment later, wondering how to explain his suspicions to Thor.

"I know I have no right to be concerned about this, brother, but I think that Midgard may be in danger."

Thor straightened at once, all business. "From whom? Thanos? How is that possible?"

"I'm not sure. It is only a small chance, but…"

"How do you know?" Thor sounded interested, but suspicious. Loki could sense a second question hidden beneath Thor's words: _Why do you care_?

Loki sighed, preparing to speak of his experiences on the Tree for the first time. "I saw many things during my punishment, Thor. Thanos gave me visions of alternate realities through the Tesseract in order to torment me. He succeeded in his brand of torture for a while, but then for some reason the visions…changed."

Loki shivered, remembering the screams of the civilians in Manhattan. The red on his hands and in his ledger. He knew they would never be truly clean again.

"I saw from the eyes of people I killed. In Jotunheim with the Bifrost and then in the battle in Midgard. It seemed as if…I was every single person either me or my army killed in New York, for the last moments of their lives."

Thor met his eyes, his gaze not full of anger or pity but _understanding._ Loki was more grateful in that moment than he had ever been before in his life.

"When the visions ended, and I was no longer bound to the Tree, I saw something entirely _different._"

"You were able to see Thanos's progress, and you informed the Allfather," Thor guessed, gripping the back of Loki's neck.

"Yes. I could see the intersections between time and space. I know not how, but I think Odin intended me to. When I first used the Tesseract to travel to Earth, and when we used it to return home, it left weak points in space-time that Thanos could manipulate. Odin was able to strengthen them and seal the path to Asgard, once I told him where it leads."

"But you used the Tesseract again to open a portal for your army in the city of New York – "

"Exactly. There could be an additional weak point. And it can only be sealed from Midgard."

Thor let go of the back of Loki's neck, looking apprehensive. "Do you know if he will use it?"

"He might. But I am not sure if he is prepared to face the same weapon that decimated his army the last time."

"I must tell the Allfather," Thor stated, determined. "He will send a message, or aid them somehow…I hope." Thor trailed off uncertainly, and Loki wondered if he had lost all trust in his father.

He hugged Loki again. "Thank you, brother. Our realms must prepare until we are ready to face Thanos in battle, and you have bought us time."

"It was my doing in the first place."

"We will fix this. Together. Would you like to visit Sif when I return?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, brother."

ooooo

_a/n: _I have two more (long-ish) chapters planned after this! Then who knows, maybe a sequel? Thanks for all the feedback and support!

Maia2: Yep, Loki is starting to think about others before himself. He's become a bit tougher and more determined since the start of this fic, I hope. I think that Thor would miss Loki's input in certain situations, and might wonder what Loki would do, so I'm glad you liked that part. I hope the reunion satisfied! Thanks for reviewing!

Ynath Esrith: Lol, unfortunately Odin tries to be a good father but he didn't have much of a role model. This is where I think he gets the idea for harsher punishments such as Loki's. Thanks for reviewing!

Shattered Equilibrium: Thanks so much! I'm glad the characters seem accurate, that's a huge concern of mine. Thanks for reviewing!

: Thank you! Glad you're liking it, and that the characters seem complex! I'm not sure yet if I'll continue what I wrote about Laufey in another story, but I'm planning on addressing Loki's thoughts on that vision in a later chapter when he speaks with Odin again. I'm kind of interested in the fandom theory that Laufey never abandoned him, but thought Loki was stolen. And if it gives more fuel for an angst fic…*laughs evilly* ;)


	16. XVI

CHAPTER XVI

Thor hurried to the Throne Room, Loki's words still running through his mind. Thanos probably had the soldiers to pose a threat, and if he could find a tear in space to manipulate…Midgard could be in danger once again. The Avengers were a force to be reckoned with, but they were scattered now, each having gone his or her own way. In addition, their success against Loki depended not only on each member's skill and strengths, but also on how they worked as a team during the battle, with no small amount of chance and luck helping them defeat the first Chitauri force.

If the second attack was bigger, more coordinated, and a surprise…then Thor was not certain how well the Earth would fare. He was not sure if he could return to help a second time, and if the situation got too dire, he was afraid that the mortal leaders would send one of their doomsday weapons again, killing both the Chitauri and human innocents alike.

He was also not sure whether he could trust Loki.

Thor's stomach turned as he approached the throne, where Odin was speaking quietly to several of his advisors. The Allfather looked worn and tired; it would no doubt be time for another Odinsleep soon. He had barely spoken to Odin since he and Sif had returned, and not at all about Sif's visions. He remembered listening quietly to her recollections and feeling sick, as though a part of him was slowly dying.

Why was he always forced to question those he loved and trusted?

Tyr and Hoenir turned to look at him, their attention caught by his hurried entrance. Odin dismissed them before Thor even spoke a word.

Once they had left, Odin sighed and sat back on his throne.

"This is about Midgard, isn't it?"

Thor was usually impressed by Odin's almost omniscient view of what was happening around him, but now it just unsettled him. He was no longer sure if he agreed with how his father used his power.

"How do you know that?"

Odin gestured to the ravens on the right and left shoulders of his throne. Hugin looked at him and cawed; the noise was shrill and almost mocking to Thor's ears.

_You will always be two steps behind, little prince,_ the sound seemed to say.

"It may be time for you to find additional pairs of eyes and ears for yourself. Birds and beasts can go where people can't. A king must always be aware of what is happening around him."

"Because he must never trust, correct, father?" Thor's tone was icy and controlled. It felt like he and Odin were discussing what Sif had seen for the first time, in some new twisted, subtle way.

"Correct, my son. He must _never_ trust, or rest. If he closes his eyes for even a second, or stops his ears, the knife waiting ready will plunge into his back."

Thor shivered, and said nothing for a long moment.

"Loki thinks that there may be an additional path still open."

"And you trust his words?" Odin responded quietly, considering Thor.

"He cannot be lying about the potential path. Since he used the Tesseract to open a portal for his army…"

"Yes, of course," Odin responded brusquely. "But _why_ would he tell you this?"

Thor thought back to what Loki had said about experiencing the deaths he had caused. Would it be right for him to repeat his brother's words to Odin? Or did the Allfather already know of Loki's stated motive through his spies?

"He feels remorse for what he has done," Thor said after a pause. "How could he not? He would still be suffering his punishment otherwise."

The Allfather looked out of the room's large open windows, his gaze distant. It was the cool end of a balmy summer day, and the sun was setting. But Thor could feel traces of electricity in the air, growing stronger with his turbulent mood.

A storm was coming.

"And remorse is enough," Odin replied finally, his voice almost a whisper, "for him to overcome his inborn nature?"

Anger rose in Thor's chest at his father's reference to Loki's parentage. What right did he have? What right did _any_ of them have?

"Frost giant or not, Loki has done no worse than _you_," Thor growled, daring to reference Odin's past actions directly for the first time. "At least he is only an _attempted _kinslayer."

Odin's icy gaze locked on his own, and Thor feared that he had finally gone too far. If Odin could kill his own father, as despicable as he was, what could he do to his son?

Both Hugin and Munin stilled, their eyes pinning him in place, their actions echoing their master's subconscious thoughts.

But Odin only shook his head, sitting back again.

"You misunderstand. I was not referring to Loki's blood – there are honest and deceptive Frost Giants, just as there are Asgardians. But he will always be driven by his cunning nature – the nature he was born with, his parentage aside. There is a hidden reason for everything he does, for that is simply how his mind works. You must know this, Thor."

Thor sucked in a breath, his heart aching. He never would have dreamed of having such a conversation a year ago – listening to his father, who he now knew was a kinslayer and a murderer of innocents, warning him that his little brother would always inevitably betray him. Like everything else that had happened these last few days, it was far too surreal.

But was it true?

"Well, I suppose you would know," Thor responded bitterly.

"Yes. Loki and I have much in common. In this way, he is far more my son than you could ever be," the Allfather explained, sounding weary. "Perhaps that is not a bad thing."

Thor thought on his father's words for a moment.

"Even if he is manipulating me, we must still warn Midgard's leaders. It is a security risk that they must be aware of."

"You have my permission. But how will we send our message?"

"Perhaps I can return to –"

"Impossible. It takes time to conjure up enough dark energy to send you there, and even if I was able to do so again so soon, we must be careful about ripping additional paths through the stars."

"Hugin or Munin –"

" – Would be easier to send, but the same principle still applies."

"Loki," Thor suggested, his mind coming full circle back to his brother. "Loki has mastered travel without the Bifrost, and he can send messages across space to others with his magic and his mind. Perhaps…" Thor trailed off, uncertain about his suggestion. Loki could contact Midgard, but would he say what Thor needed him to?

"It will be your decision. Tell him if you want," the Allfather responded. "Maybe you are right, and he does want to atone."

Thor brightened a bit at Odin's words.

"But remember what I said."

Thor scowled and turned to leave, before deciding to ask the question that still haunted his mind. He had so many questions for Odin, such as why he had used and then discarded Mimir, why he concealed Loki's parentage all his life, and why he had murdered innocents just to align with Thanos, a genocidal worshipper of Death. But one particular action of Odin's troubled him the most at the moment.

"How could you betray your own father, and let Thanos kill him? Were you too cowardly to finish the job yourself?"

Odin smiled slightly, looking both sad and victorious at once. "How else does one avenge the death of one family member against another, without striking the final blow himself?"

It was not an answer that Thor expected. Lost in thought, he turned to leave. He had to find Loki, and tell him of his new task.

ooooo

"Can you help me, brother?"

"Perhaps. I have strength enough for this. Only…"

"What?"

"You are not going to like this, but...it will be easier for me to use a mind I know well. A mind I have influenced before. The message will be clearer that way."

"Absolutely not, Loki! Have you not tortured the poor man enough? He is still suffering from what you made him do."

"I suppose I could use someone else. But I don't know how clear the message will be. My magic is not at full strength yet."

"…Do what you must. If you are _sure_ you can contact no one else of use."

"I swear that I will not harm or control him, and that I will only deliver your warning."

"I will hold you to your oath, brother. You should know that if you betray me, I will _kill_ you."

"Noted."

ooooo

Clint tossed and turned, restless despite his new sleep meds. The Ambien only worked for a few hours at a time before his peaceful sleep was invaded by nightmares. Every night it was the same, without fail, since –

_Natasha straddled him, leaning down slowly, teasingly, to plant a kiss on his lips. Clint moaned into her mouth, their tongues twining together, his hands reaching up to unhook her bra. _

- since the underground research facility, and _him_, and the Blue overriding his senses, his loyalties, and all of his training, and attacking and killing his friends, his _family_, really, since he had never really known another –

_She ground her hips against his and he gasped, reaching up to cup her breasts. Natasha undid his belt, sliding his pants down his legs. "It'll be all right, Clint. It's over now, you just need to work all this out in your head."_

- since he was _unmade _and rebuilt in another's image.

_Clint grinned, sitting and kissing a trail from her neck to her chest down to her stomach and lower. "You'll help me, Nat?" he asked playfully, her fingers tangled in his hair._

"_Sure, Clint. It just takes time – I recovered from Drakov's daughter, Sao Paulo, and the hospital fire, after all."_

_His blood ran cold at the specific order of her words. "What…Nat?"_

_He was suddenly pinned to the bed, unable to move an inch. He stared up into Natasha's eyes, and saw to his horror that they were the same shade of blue as the Tesseract – the same shade his had been when Loki had made him kill his fellow agents without a second thought ._

"_You betrayed me, Clint," Natasha accused, her voice playful and singsong. "I've been compromised."_

_Ropes wound around his wrists and ankles of their own accord, leaving little room for movement. He looked up again and noticed that Natasha was holding a knife unlike one he had ever seen – its blade shimmered in the light, as if it were made of the purest crystal._

"_**No!**__ Nat, you don't understand, Loki is manipulating us, __**please**__, let me up – "_

"_And miss all of the fun, my dear hawk? That will not do."_

_The devil himself stepped out of the shadows, his normally ridiculous horned helmet looking simply demonic in this light._

_Loki grinned, his smile a flash of white in the dim room. _

"_Let the games begin!"_

_Natasha lowered the knife to her wrist – _

Clint jerked awake, his heart pounding and his breathing erratic. He looked around quickly, noting to his relief that he was alone in his room on base. No ropes and knives, no eerie brainwashed Nat, and no Loki.

_Just another nightmare. At least I got a few hours' shut-eye._

Clint rubbed his reddened eyes and climbed out of bed, reaching immediately for the light switch. He knew that it was childish to be afraid of the dark, but turning on the lights lately, especially after yet another nightmare, was an unspoken but profound comfort.

_(Because Loki lived in the dark, __**thrived**__ in the blackest corners of his heart and mind, and he was shadow itself, a specter that would haunt Clint as long as he lived)_

Clint looked over at his clock and noted the time: _3:35 am._ He would still have some time to rest, even if he could not truly sleep for the rest of the night. He didn't want noticeable dark circles under his eyes when he went to his psych eval later this morning, his fourth in two weeks.

Clint padded over to the sink and turned on the faucet, rinsing out the bile in his mouth. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and he hardly recognized himself. He was gaunt and pale, with circles so dark under his eyes that they almost resembled bruises.

He looked starved, insane, and desperate.

He looked like _him._

"Oh, be reasonable, Barton. You're projecting again. Surely I don't look _that _bad."

Clint whipped around upon hearing the familiar voice, grabbing his bow off of the nearby counter. Loki was standing by the door, all leather and metal and _evil_, and within a split second Clint had notched an arrow and fired it straight at the bastard's eye socket.

Loki didn't move to catch the arrow or dodge it, and it simply sailed through him, hitting the back wall. The blades embedded in the arrowhead cracked the plaster as it opened, leaving a hole in the wall. Clint wondered if his neighbors had heard him – they already had enough reason to think he was crazy. But he felt the need to warn _someone_ verbally even with the cameras silently observing the room – _Loki_ was here!

He notched another arrow, wondering where he left his cell phone. Help would be coming soon, because the cameras _should_ see Loki, unless he was doing something magical –

"Looking for this?" Loki held up Clint's smartphone, peering curiously at it. He held it up to his eyes and ran his fingers over the screen.

Clint opened his mouth to scream. Loki would kill him, but at least SHIELD would know he was back –

"They won't hear you, hawk. This is all happening in your head."

Clint lowered his bow a fraction of an inch, his hands shaky. "So you aren't really here. Just another dream." He felt like an idiot, but this second nightmare seemed so _vivid_.

"I suppose you can call this a dream if you wish. You are still technically asleep," Loki responded, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. Barton noticed that he was dressed in different clothes than he had worn during his invasion, and that he was carrying no visible weapon.

"But I _am_ truly here, and everything that is happening now is real."

"Bullshit, Loki. Dreams aren't real."

"No? Look at your bow – you must dream about archery sometimes. Is your weapon ever this detailed in your regular dreams?"

Clint looked down at his bow, astonished. He _did _dream about shooting, but it was all hazy, insubstantial. Now, he could see every individual part of his bow in enough detail that it looked the same as it did when he was awake.

Or maybe he _was _awake, and Loki was screwing with him. Very likely, and there was one satisfying way to find out.

Clint fired his second arrow through Loki's other eye socket. The demigod didn't flinch or take any action, and the arrow sailed harmlessly through him again, exploding as it hit the wall behind him. Plaster rained down on them both, the noise rattling Clint's eardrums. If this was real life, other agents would certainly be here or send for help within seconds – they were trained for this, after all.

Ten seconds, fifteen, twenty. No response from the hall, no signs of life. A chilling thought entered Clint's mind.

_What if Loki already killed them all?_

"Are you finished?" Loki asked, moving to take a seat at Clint's tiny breakfast table. Clint kept an arrow trained on him the entire time. Even if it did him no good, it still gave him a sense of security.

"I'm not here to harm you or anyone else at SHIELD. I'm here to send a message on behalf of Asgard, and my brother," Loki said quietly. "I will leave your mind once I'm finished, and then you will wake up."

"A…a _message_? From Thor? What the fuck?"

Clint was not expecting that. Perhaps this _was_ too bizarre to be a regular dream. Why wasn't Loki trying to control him again? And why would Asgard make _Loki_ send their message inside of _his_ head?

"Your realm is in danger. A warlord called Thanos –"

"Woah, slow the fuck _down_. Why are you telling _me_? And why should I listen to you? You brainwashed me, and now you're playing in my head again. And you just attacked Earth yourself two weeks ago!"

"The Tesseract left a link between our minds. There is no one else in SHIELD that I can warn from this distance. I know that this is hard to believe – "

"Damn right it is! You're the god of _lies_. And now you suddenly care about Earth? What changed your mind?"

Loki sighed, his eyes fixed on Clint's phone as he spun it on the table. "My punishment has shown me the error of my ways."

Clint swore that he saw red at that moment. The self-righteous little _bastard_.

"Awww," Clint began, his tone sickeningly sweet and sarcastic. "You probably spent two weeks grounded in your luxurious room with your magic taken away by daddy, servants still waiting on you, right? What a fitting punishment for killing hundreds of people! You're a new man now!"

Loki stood up so quickly that he barely registered the movement, flinging the phone at Clint's head. Clint ducked, electronic parts raining down on him.

"Hey, I need that! Why are you so sensitive about it, anyway? Seems like a good deal to me."

Loki waved his hand dismissively. "It'll be there when you wake up. You mortals and your glowing screens. And that was _not _my punishment!"

"Was it the snake venom thing? If it was, maybe I can see your point."

Loki smiled bitterly, remembering the mortals' old elaborate tales. "Asgardian justice resembles your second guess more than your first, even for a prince. But sadly, no. That was not my punishment."

"Then what the hell was? Before I listen to _anything_ you have to say, I want to know how they made you suffer. What was so terrible that it changed your entire perspective?"

Loki clenched his jaw, weighing his words before he spoke.

"Very well," he began brusquely after a pause, "my punishment had two parts. The first was a public flogging."

Loki lifted his green tunic and showed Clint his back. Clint winced despite himself; Loki's back was dripping blood, and his skin was completely gone, with only torn muscle and bone visible. He was sure that this was an illusion for demonstration's sake, and that Loki had already healed with his godly powers.

"One lash for every Midgardian life my army and I took."

Clint nodded, satisfied. That was hundreds of lashes. He hoped they had all hurt. "What was the second part?"

"That takes a bit more explaining, and it ties into my message," Loki replied. He rolled up his sleeves, showing Clint blackened symbols burned into his forearms. "Odin bound my magic with these runes. He did it so that my mind would be defenseless against Thanos."

"Who the hell is that?"

"Thanos is the warlord who controls the Chitauri. He gave me my army, in exchange for retrieving the Tesseract."

"But you fucked up, and the army he gave you was completely destroyed. You left him with nothing."

"Indeed. He is…unhappy with me. Thanos is extremely powerful, dangerous, and sadistic. He worships Death, and kills as many people as possible as sacrifices."

"So what does he have to do with your punishment?"

Loki waved his hand, and Clint tensed. He stared on in wonder as a lifelike model of a cave and a glowing tree appeared in the center of the room.

"Yggdrasil," Loki indicated the pulsing tree, "shelters the Nine Realms and holds the universe together. There is a root in Asgard. Energy from other realms flows in through the root, and magic users from outside can influence Asgard through it, though there are protections against these influences past a certain point."

"And…" Clint wasn't sure where Loki was going with this. He wasn't expecting a Norse cosmology lesson.

"And Thanos is one of those magic users. Odin bound me to the Tree so that Thanos could tear my mind apart. Without my own magic, I could not defend myself."

Clint frowned, weighing Loki's story. Loki did not seem as if his mind had been torn apart – if anything, he looked somewhat calmer and saner than when Clint had last seen him, though that wasn't saying very much. But if it was true…it was a dick move on his dad's part. Loki probably deserved it, but it seemed cold for a father to sentence his son to such a fate, adopted or not.

"How would Thanos drive you insane from so far away? That makes no sense. He wasn't in Asgard, was he?"

"No, of course not," Loki chided. "He was able to manipulate the Tesseract from a distance. He used it to punish me."

Clint remembered Loki catching his arm in the underground base, and the scepter's energy washing away his loyalties and free will. He had seen amazing things in that split-second: a world thriving under Loki's rule, and how his own service and skills would fit in to it. Loki would be his boss but also his family, more of a family than anyone at SHIELD, even Nat, could ever be. He was appreciated, useful, competent, and _necessary_…

Clint pushed the painful memory to the back of his mind. Was that what Loki meant? The vision hadn't felt like torture at the time, rather it had felt like the culmination of his life's purpose. But perhaps if the Tesseract could be used to build someone up, it could also be used to break them down.

"What did it show you?" Clint was interested now, despite himself. He knew that it was stupid to let his guard down around a psychopath like Loki, but he was beginning to feel some unwanted sympathy for the bastard.

He knew what it was like to be unmade.

"It showed me many of my alternate lives, different directions that certain events could have taken. Let's just say…I learned that things can always be worse. Always," Loki laughed awkwardly, sounding a bit unhinged.

"You asked what changed my perspective," Loki continued, waving his hand to dispel his illusion and avoiding Clint's eyes. "I also saw…it felt as if I was every single person I killed in the battle of New York in their last moments up until their deaths. I killed other people too, Frost Giants, before I came here. I tried to destroy their planet, and I almost succeeded. I saw some of their deaths as well."

Clint shivered. He was an assassin, and though he had always worked for SHIELD fighting global crime, he knew that he had probably killed dozens of people over the years that were more or less innocent, or simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He still had occasional nightmares about some of his old assignments, which were unsettling enough, and he could not fathom having to experience his kills from his targets' perspectives.

Clint still believed that Loki deserved whatever punishment was thrown at him, but his sudden change of heart made more sense now. Perhaps he just felt guilty for what he did, if he was being honest about his experiences. Clint was not sure why the demigod had tried to destroy another planet before invading Earth, but when he had felt Loki's mind while under his control, there had only been darkness and pain. Loki had been desperate, and while Clint could never forgive the Asgardian for unmaking him, he was familiar with that same desperation.

"I know that I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, so I won't," Loki said quietly, looking Clint straight in the eye for the first time. "But after what Thanos did to me…it's not the same thing, but I'm beginning to understand how I wronged you."

"Is that an apology?" Clint had no intention of accepting it if it was, but he wondered if Loki could humble himself enough to ask.

"Does it matter? It's not as if a mere apology would ever be enough – "

"That's not the point, man. You're either sorry or you aren't. That shouldn't be conditional on whether or not I forgive you."

"All right." Loki took a deep breath, looking as if his next words would be an epic struggle. "Barton, I am…sorry…for taking control of your mind and turning you against the organization of SHIELD."

"And for making me kill my friends?"

Loki looked surprised for a moment, then pained. Perhaps he hadn't realized that SHIELD agents often considered each other friends and even family. To him, Barton's kills had all been nameless targets.

"Yes, especially that."

"Well, I don't accept your apology and I'll never forgive you. But if you've gone to all this trouble just to contact me, I suppose I can at least hear your warning. Then you'll get the fuck out of my head and never come back."

Loki nodded. He didn't look surprised, and Clint wondered if he was even slightly disappointed by the rejection. Clint was satisfied; at least he had made the arrogant prince squirm.

"Very well," Loki began, "Before Thanos took my mind, he told me that he planned to attack Asgard. We discovered that there are rifts in space left by the Tesseract that he can travel in, albeit slowly. I used it to transport myself to Midgard, and then to open a portal for my army. Then Thor used it to bring me home."

"So Thanos will use these paths?"

"He has already started, hawk."

"_Fuck_."

"The Allfather has sealed the spaces around Asgard, but your realm is still vulnerable, particularly from the use of the Tesseract in New York. If Thanos wishes to attack Midgard, he will start there."

Clint smirked. "SHIELD will know where to send the nuke this time."

Loki shrugged. "Thanos is more aware of your realm's defenses now. I am not certain of his plans, but he no doubt has a formidable Chitauri army under his command. He may attack, but probably not immediately."

"Is that all? Got any suggestions on how I should break this to Fury?"

Loki winced. He didn't envy Clint at the moment either. "If you just tell him everything I said, I am sure he will make an appropriate decision. I know you have no reason to trust me, but there was no other way for Asgard to warn your Realm. Our Bifrost is gone and we are isolated."

Clint straightened, drawing back his bowstring. "I'll tell him, but I can't make him listen. And if I ever see your sorry ass on my planet again, I'll shoot out both your eyes."

Loki grinned, his smile full of mischief. "I'd like to see you **try**."

There was a flash of green and he was gone.

ooooo

"Hurry up, brother!"

Thor pulled Loki through the halls towards Sif's chambers, keeping an eye out for servants and healers along the way. The Allfather had ordered him to ensure that Loki stayed in his rooms and kept a low profile for the time being; he was not sure if the people would take kindly to Loki's presence among them again so soon.

It was also important to keep Loki out of any more mischief as he recovered.

"Let go of me, you brute! I can keep up." Loki glared at Thor and fell in step alongside him. Sif's chambers were a part of the palace but removed from their own. Loki had only been inside of them once before, when he had woken up hungover with a pounding headache on Sif's floor, with no memory of how he got there. There had been blood on the side of his face and his tunic was shredded to bits. Sif was missing almost all of her then-golden hair, which, like both of their memories of the night before, was nowhere to be found.

Neither of them discussed the puzzling incident after that, and Loki never found himself in her chambers again.

Thor stopped before a door, knocked, and slipped in with Loki upon hearing an "Enter." Sif was sitting in a leather chair, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her dark hair was tangled and there were deep circles underneath her eyes.

She stood upon seeing them. "Thor!" She cried excitedly. Her eyes fell on Loki, and her smile faded. "And _you_."

"Loki has completed his punishment, and he only wishes to inquire about your health," Thor began soothingly, ever the peacemaker, nervously watching his brother and his best friend stare each other down. They looked as if they were trying to kill one another with their eyes.

Loki broke the tense silence first.

"Thor speaks the truth, my lady. I only wished to see the consequences of your indescribably stupid decision. Not everyone who drinks Mimir's brew fares so well, and this makes for interesting study," Loki said lightly, smiling insincerely.

"_**Loki**_," Thor growled, grabbing his brother's shoulder.

"Thor," Sif began primly, murder in her eyes, "Loki is welcome here. Why not give us some time alone to discuss our differences?"

"I'm…not certain that is wise. I am supposed to keep an eye on him at all times," Thor responded hesitantly, glaring at his brother again for good measure.

"I promise that I will return him to you in one piece," Sif laughed humorlessly.

"Well, all right then…I will wait outside of your door." Thor looked between them again uncertainly and Loki winked.

Sif waited until the door closed before running at him, knocking him headfirst to the floor. Loki grunted as the back of his head struck the stone, and Sif pinned him, punching every inch of his face that she could.

"You…ungrateful… argr _traitor_!" Loki heard a crack, and felt his nose dripping blood. "You adopted bastard!"

One of Sif's nails raked against his eye, and Loki growled, flipping the enraged shieldmaiden and pinning her wrists above her head.

He spat some of the blood in his mouth in her face. "I don't think that counts as 'in one piece,'" he sneered, feeling his eye begin to sting.

"I hate you," Sif whispered, struggling against his grip.

Loki's heart sank, and he let go of her wrists, slumping on the floor beside her. "I'm sorry for my words. I deserve it."

Sif climbed to her feet and walked across the room, fumbling around for something. Loki lay sprawled out on the floor, unwilling to move, knowing that he looked pathetic. His second apology of the day was going as poorly as his first, and he was starting to wonder if anyone besides his mother and Thor would ever give him a second chance. He knew that his pride was probably not helping.

Sif sat down beside him again and pulled him up by his collar, pressing a towel to his face. Loki grunted his thanks and accepted it, soaking up some of the blood from his nose.

"I apologize for mocking your situation," he tried again after a pause. "I was just angry that Thor would take such a risk, and that you would be forced to pay the price for his stupidity."

"Loyalty to a brother is not _stupidity_," Sif snapped, "and I was not _forced_ to do anything."

Loki gently reached up and tucked a loose stand of dark hair behind her ear. "You must truly love my brother, to accompany him on such a mission," he concluded, sounding pensive.

Sif froze, staring at Loki. "Thor is dear to me," she began slowly, "and as I shieldmaiden I have sworn to protect him. But I really went…to help you."

"To help _me_?" Loki was not sure if he had heard correctly. Sif had betrayed him when he was king in favor of Thor, like all of his so-called friends. He thought that she _hated_ him.

"You…are dear to me as well," Sif confessed slowly, hesitantly meeting his eyes.

Loki dropped the towel and leaned in slowly, pressing his lips against Sif's. She stilled but didn't pull away, and returned his kiss after a pause. Sif opened her mouth to Loki's tongue, and he wound his fingers in black hair that should have been golden.

Loki remembered something and pulled away a moment later. Sif looked questioningly at him and he sighed, preparing for her hatred. He did not want to be loved for something that he was not.

"I told you that Thor is not my brother in blood," he began emotionlessly, certain as to how this would turn out. "Did he say anything else to you on the matter?"

"Only that you were adopted after the war. I guessed from Vanaheim – why does it matter?"

Loki backed away, preparing to change. "It matters because I am not of Asgard or Vanaheim," he answered, concentrating and feeling the cold creep over his skin. He did not need to look down at his hands to know that they were an icy blue. "I am Loki Laufeyson."

He dared to meet Sif's eyes and saw that she was staring at him, her mouth open wide in disbelief. Loki looked away immediately, shame burning his insides. Would she reject him now? Want to kill him?

"Odin took me after he defeated Laufey in order to unite the kingdoms," he went on, his voice shaky. "I didn't know until –"

" - Until Thor was banished. It all makes sense now," Sif whispered, more to herself than to him.

"What makes sense?" Loki's heart was pounding in anticipation of the rejection that he knew would come. Why couldn't she just be quick about it?

"Why you betrayed us," Sif responded. Loki listened for anger and disgust in her voice, but heard none.

"Because I am a monster?" Loki suggested bitterly, hiding his face with his clawed hands.

Sif moved closer, and Loki wondered if she was holding a knife. He did not want to have to look at her to find out, and risk seeing her disgust.

"Because you felt betrayed first."

Loki opened his eyes in astonishment. Sif was closer now, and she was studying his new form in interest and a small amount of fear.

"You are short for a Frost Giant." Her voice was choked, as if she were about to cry. Loki was afraid; he had never seen Sif cry before, even when she was injured in battle.

"I am a runt. Or a half-breed, I'm not sure."

"What do the lines mean?" Sif reached out to touch one suddenly, and Loki closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. But she did not pull away in pain, and Loki felt her fingers slowly tracing a scar on his forehead, so he assumed that she was not burned.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps they are family markings. Does my skin not burn?" He asked fearfully, Volstagg's scream of pain in Jotunheim still echoing in his mind.

"No, it is just cool. I have a bit of a fever, and it feels nice."

"…Oh," Loki responded, bewildered. Why was she still willing to touch him? He couldn't even stand to look at _himself_.

"Your hands," she exclaimed, taking Loki's clawed blue fingers in her own, "are…different."

"…Different. In case you haven't noticed, I'm also blue," he responded dryly.

She looked at him, her eyes red and wet. "It is not as bad as you think it is, just a bit different. You still look much like yourself." Sif stood up and helped him to his feet, and Loki got up, still astonished that she hadn't thrown him out or attacked.

"Come and take a look," Sif pulled him over to a mirror and Loki closed his eyes, not ready to see a monster staring back at him. "Have you ever even seen your own reflection?"

Loki took a deep breath and opened his eyes, seeing a new face staring back at him. His skin was light blue, a color that Loki had normally liked before he learned of his heritage. His eyes were deep red like other Jotuns', and he did not quite recognize them as his own. There were circular scars on his forehead, indicating something in the Jotun language. His hair was still as dark as ever, and his jawline looked the same.

As much as his appearance made him uncomfortable, he had to admit that he was still recognizable. He did not look like a nameless Jotun warrior that Thor would put down like a rabid dog, but rather like a blue, red-eyed _Loki_.

Loki took in his reflection a moment longer before looking away, overcome with emotion. "You do not find it repulsive? _How_?"

"Because you are still my friend underneath," Sif whispered back, "and since you have always been Jotun, this changes nothing."

Loki focused and felt the cold drain away, seeing his skin turn pale again. He grabbed Sif's other hand and rested his forehead against hers, grateful beyond belief. He was still shocked that Sif accepted him, and slightly ashamed that he had not believed in her.

"I'm sorry for everything," he murmured. His apology was genuine, and he knew there would be many more in the future. He had not changed so much.

"I forgive you." Sif smiled at him. "But if you ever do it again, I will wear your guts as a scarf."

Loki shuddered. "Understood."

"Let me tell you of our adventure," Sif began excitedly. Loki wondered if Thor was still waiting in the hall. He had probably gotten bored and wandered off. He listened to Sif speak, eager for an explanation of Odin's ties with Thanos, and particularly of the invincible weapon he had created.

_I will only hurt you in the end, though it pains me as well. It is our fate._

ooooo

_a/n_: Phew, 6,400 words, longest chapter yet! I thought there would be one more chapter after this one but it looks like two now. Loki confronts Odin next, and I want to leave plenty of space for that.

Maia2: He doesn't know what Frigga did yet, but he may find out very soon ;) I thought that Loki should reach out for once, since Thor is having a bit of an emotional crisis right now. It's not easy for him to find out that his dad is slightly evil ;) Glad you liked it! Thanks for reviewing!

Izalind: Thanks so much! :)

: Thanks! I hope this chapter satisfied! :)


	17. XVII

CHAPTER XVII

Loki sat on his balcony, the cool summer night's breeze caressing his skin and tousling his hair. He tried to focus, to position the pieces on the chessboard in his mind. _Thanos…Bor…Odin…Mimir …_Sif's story, or the parts he had heard, seemed to make logical sense, but Loki had the unsettling feeling that there was something profound that he was missing_._ And until he had an answer, sleep would not come easily.

Sif's words about the powerful gems that Odin and Bor had nurtured, and the price that they had paid to feed them stuck in his mind. She had glossed over many of the details, but as she spoke Loki could hear the echo of many screams in her eyes, and could see the blood soaking into the grass on a battlefield.

Thor said that Odin had helped his father kill innocents in order to prepare Thanos's gems. If that was true, then what terrible price had he paid to forge the gauntlet that held them? And why was Mimir a victim of Odin's forbidden experiments to cheat death? Surely, with such a powerful weapon as the gauntlet in his possession, Odin would have no reason to fear a natural death.

Still more questions nagged at Loki's fevered mind.

If Odin still had the gauntlet, and Loki was almost certain that he did, then why did he not use it? He could have ruled the Nine Realms with ease, and could have crushed the Jotun resistance singlehandedly in the last war, with no need to take in an adopted runt as insurance for the future.

Was there a simple explanation, such as how difficult the gauntlet was to master, or did his unanswered questions hint at something more sinister?

Loki sighed and rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. He was satisfied to feel his magic growing stronger by the day, returning to how it had been before his fall a little more each time he ate and slept. He also seemed to look less gaunt and pale lately, a change that Thor had happily remarked on.

His mind and his wits, however…had not quite returned to normal yet. Before his fall, Loki's mind had worked like a well-oiled machine, his thoughts and perceptions focused and organized. Now, his ideas were more disjointed, and sprang off randomly from one another. Sometimes he was hyperaware of every aspect of his environment, as he was right after fighting a very difficult battle, and sometimes his thoughts wandered until he lost track of where he was and what he was saying.

It was troubling, and he hoped that it would improve with time.

Thor had informed him that the warrior Fury of SHIELD had reluctantly heeded Barton's warning and was making preparations. Loki was relieved that his control of the hawk had not discredited him to his superiors entirely, otherwise his message would have been in vain. Truthfully, though, Loki doubted that Thanos would attack Midgard again so soon after the Chitauri's last defeat. The mortals had no doubt studied the fallen Chitauri warriors and made preparations for a second invasion.

Inferior as they were, Loki could not deny that humans were resourceful. With their tenacity, he wondered if they would one day rival even Asgard.

Loki's mind spun. His thoughts kept returning to the gauntlet that was under Odin's protection, though his unease ran deeper than that. _Midgard…Thanos…himself…_What was Odin's game? He needed to find out.

He needed answers.

ooooo

He found her in her garden, staring absently into the fountain. Loki knew that his mother had trouble sleeping like he did, and when he was much younger he would often find her here whenever he wandered out of bed after unsuccessfully counting sheep. Frigga would tell him stories of magic and adventure, and Loki would often fall asleep at the soothing sound of her voice, only to wake up later, comfortable in his own bed.

It was somewhat reassuring to know that despite all that had changed, some things remained the same.

"Trouble sleeping, dear?"

Loki jumped in surprise as he entered the garden; he had not dropped his magical cloak yet. He was not strictly invisible, but rather his magic encouraged others to overlook his presence. It was not foolproof, but it was easier than maintaining complete invisibility. He had a feeling that he would need all of his power in the days to come.

"Mother." Loki ended his spell and sat next to her on the marble bench. "It seems we both have the same problem."

"You used to wander out here so often as a boy," Frigga mused, her voice soft. "Then you stopped when you got a bit older. I never minded, you know, but I hoped that you learned to fall asleep more easily on your own."

"What about you?" Loki asked, curious. "There was no one to tell you stories to fall asleep to."

"Oh, I manage, Loki," Frigga responded with a laugh. "You get used to it after a while."

Loki frowned at her answer, turning it over in his mind. He was ashamed to admit that he had not often considered his mother's health; she never looked tired during the day, though he knew that the duties of a queen could sometimes be taxing.

Loki wondered what was causing her insomnia tonight, but he was not sure if he should ask. He hoped that it was not concern over an approaching war, or himself. Still, his curiosity got the better of him, and he found the words slipping from his tongue anyway.

"What troubles you, mother? If you do not mind me asking."

Frigga paused and then sighed, her eyes fixed upon the stars.

"Ghosts from a time long past. Darkness that is best left buried and forgotten. But I suppose it is not wise to forget all of the pain in the past, if it means one does not learn from it."

"How long in the past?" Loki's voice was soft, but it cut through the silent night air like a blade. His heart pounded in his chest. Was Frigga tortured by some of the same questions that he was?

She looked at him, but he could not fully see her expression in the darkness. "Long before your birth, my son. Long before Asgard became the power that it is today."

"Did Odin rule then?"

Frigga fell silent again for a long moment, seemingly considering her response.

"May I tell you a story again, Loki? Not a children's' story, with glory and adventure and a happy ending, but a true story?"

"It is my goal to pursue truth of late, mother."

"Very well," Frigga's voice fell into the familiar lull that Loki remembered from when she had told him of dragons, hidden treasure, and magic in his youth. They were stories of wit and friendship – all fictional, of course, but fictions that Loki had wished to strive for.

"Many millennia ago, there were Nine Realms of Yggdrasil, just as there are now," Frigga began, contemplating the stars. "But power was more spread out. One realm did not dominate the others. Magic was practiced by everyone in those days, even the Aesir. Sorcerers discovered ways to link the worlds together for travel and trade, and magic was not seen as a dishonorable pursuit."

Loki smiled slightly to himself. He would not have minded living in that age.

"But then the balance of power between the realms began to shift, and few were certain why. The only people who knew the reason," Frigga continued quietly, "were the new Asgardian king, his son, and their mysterious benefactor. Not even Asgard's people were certain of what was happening."

_Bor, Odin, and Thanos,_ Loki knew, though he did not speak their names aloud.

"The bloodshed came soon after. Entire villages and cities were wiped out across several realms, their inhabitants either slaughtered or carried off in chains. Someone had learned how to move entire armies across the stars at once – a feat that had never been accomplished before."

Loki knew that the Bifrost was a useful tool in war, but he had always considered it to be merely a means of travel. He never knew that it had played a darker role in Asgard's history.

"There were not many survivors of these raids, but the few who escaped all had a story to tell. In each of those stories, a mad king led his army, his axe covered in blood. There was a young man who fought beside him, a powerful sorcerer with a golden spear, who was said to be his son."

Loki listened intently, filing away all of the relevant details in his mind. Sif's version had many similarities to Frigga's, but it was limited to Mimir's point of view. How had he never heard this story before from anyone else?

"These conquerors rarely spared prisoners after winning a battle, unless they were of considerable use as slaves. They captured entire towns of men, women, and even children, and executed them all in varying ways. All of the killings had one thing in common: the prince, who was a sorcerer, would chant as his father did his bloody work, fueling a spell for an unknown purpose."

Loki shivered, not in fear, but in anger. He had committed atrocities on Midgard, and he accepted that now. He knew that he deserved punishment, but he could not understand why Odin felt he had the right to judge him for his crimes. If Odin was also a murderer, then who had punished him? Why did he feel that he could claim moral superiority over Loki?

"Several realms suffered the greatest losses from the invaders, mainly Vanaheim and Alfheim. They desperately discussed what to do. The Vanir and the elves can fight if necessary, but they are not raised as warriors like the Aesir. They used sorcery in an attempt to trap the Asgardian king and his army, whenever they arrived to fight and kill, but some power always protected them from capture until the Bifrost brought them back to Asgard."

_The gems?_ Loki wondered, remembering some of Sif's vague descriptions. He wasn't sure if she left out details from a lack of knowledge, or because she didn't trust him. Probably the latter, he was forced to admit.

"The Vanir king and queen had no choice but to contact Asgard and ask for their terms. They wanted to make peace before the mad king decided to conquer their entire realm. He accepted gold, at first, and some of the raids stopped. But soon, he wished for a more…permanent alliance."

"What did he want?" Loki realized that Frigga was speaking about her parents, and her realm. He knew that she would feature in her own story very soon.

"A marriage. The princess was coming of age, and she was only a little younger than the king's son. She was afraid, but willing…until she found out that she was not to marry the prince, but the king as a replacement for his first wife." Frigga laughed bitterly, lost in her own memory.

"She…I…hated the Asgardians. They were loud, violent, and somewhat savage. After watching their king for less than a day when they arrived to negotiate, it was easy to guess what had happened to his first wife. I didn't know what to do. If I ran, my realm would burn, but if I married him, I knew I would die by his hand, and then he would break his truce with my father anyway."

Loki reached for his mother's hand, horrified. He had certainly never heard _this_ before.

"As our fathers began to negotiate a wedding, the prince sought me out. He was quiet, and did not seem to be mad like his father, but I knew that he was still a killer. He told me how he found his mother's body and asked me if I was prepared to accept the same fate. When I said that I would die to spare my people if I had to, he offered me a way out. He said that he could distract his father and interfere with their work long enough to postpone the wedding."

Loki listened, breathless. "What did Odin ask in return?"

"My help in the future, though he did not say with what. He kept his word, and the visits from Asgard stopped. Over the next few years there were more deaths reported from other realms, but now Asgard was not the sole attacker. There were whispers…of a new power, a darker power, from distant stars."

"Thanos."

"Who else? We realized that the prince's sorcery had given him his power. My father and others planned to capture and torture the prince, to discover how to kill this new invader. When he came back to Vanaheim alone to speak with me, he narrowly avoided an ambush, and was desperate for my help."

Loki stayed silent, listening to the wind move through the trees and the distant sounds from the palace. He did not know what to think of his mother's story – he had always just assumed that she loved and supported Odin from the moment she met him.

"He said that they had underestimated Thanos, and now he was working on a way to stop him. It was a gauntlet – Thanos would wear it, thinking it was a weapon, but in truth, it would banish him to the edge of the universe, with the addition of a final gem. He needed my help with several of the enchantments, and I agreed, hoping that he was telling the truth, for all our sakes."

"The next time I saw him, his father was dead, Thanos was gone, and he was Asgard's new king. He attacked my realm with an army, not to kill innocents, but to take magical relics of value from our vaults, and all the gold that his warriors could carry. He wore the gauntlet that I had helped create, and was unstoppable," Frigga recalled, sorrow in her voice.

Loki's eyes widened as he heard her words. So Odin _had _used the gauntlet in battle – but why did he stop if it gave him an advantage? Why did he not use it against Jotunheim?

"The Vanir army battled the Asgardians, but against the gauntlet, we were even more outmatched," Frigga continued, her voice soft. "We all fought, and I killed for the first time." Loki squeezed his mother's hand in sympathy; he still remembered his first kill in battle.

"My father called for a brief truce, though it was useless, but surprisingly the new king granted it. His terms were simple: we would give him our most powerful relics willingly and be spared, or he would walk over our dead bodies to retrieve them. I ignored my place and spoke up. I asked him what the use was in taking our old relics, if he could take someone with the skill to create even better ones for Asgard instead. I was my realm's best sorceress, and he knew my power from working with me before. I swore that I would aid him if he spared my realm and left it in peace."

"And he accepted your offer, I'm sure," Loki sneered, angry on his mother's behalf. "When did he force you to marry him?"

"It wasn't like that, Loki," Frigga protested. "He wanted me, but he knew that I feared him. He left me to my work, and Asgard healed slowly around me under his rule. He was a better king than his father," Frigga mused, sounding affectionate for the first time during her story.

"He spoke with me often about many things, and I could tell that he was still terrified of Thanos, and the many other enemies he and his father had made. If they came back for him, he was afraid that his kingdom would fall, despite the work I had done. I tried to reassure him, but he would not listen. He took the gauntlet and left the throne to his advisers, and was not seen afterwards in Asgard for nine days and nights."

Frigga laughed fondly. "I'm sure you have some idea of where he went. When he came back, he was very different. He no longer craved battle, and he regretted many of the deaths he had caused, and even paid weregild to several other realms to atone for his past actions. He focused on rebuilding Asgard with our sorcery instead of making war. I agreed to marry him soon after."

"What made him change? Was it whatever happened when he hung on Yggdrasil?"

"It must have been, though I know not what he saw. Perhaps it was not so different from what you saw at the end of your punishment, though he didn't know of the Tesseract at the time…" Frigga began, trailing off as if she had suddenly remembered something important.

The pieces clicked together in Loki's mind and his eyes widened. "How do you know what I saw, and when, mother? I don't remember telling you. Did Thor speak of it to you?"

Frigga's silence was confirmation enough. Loki gaped at the wordless confession in equal parts shock and gratitude.

"It was _you_. You kept Thanos from my mind…you defied Odin."

ooooo

Loki studied the blade in his hand, testing the edge for required sharpness. Its edge was razor thin and could cut through just about anything, living or dead. The knife glinted in the torchlight, its countless colors reflecting around the dim room. Loki had procured a piece of the broken rainbow bridge as Heimdall rested, slipping past Thor's clumsy watch and cloaking himself as he returned to where he had fallen for the first time.

He had not wanted to look down as he broke a large enough fragment off of the edge, but his eyes were drawn to the infinite void beneath him anyway.

It had seemed to call to him, to lure him forward with its dark promises, until a distant rumble of thunder sounded near the palace.

_Brother_, Loki had remembered, and he backed away from the edge of the universe, his stolen shard clutched tightly in his hand.

Thankfully, Thor had not realized the Trickster's brief absence and was irritated over something else, probably his equally manipulative father. Loki had used the time to craft the shard into an admirable blade that could kill even an extremely strong Asgardian – and he had one particular person in mind.

Loki made almost all of his own blades so that they worked flawlessly with his own strength and magic when he used them. He was not sure if he could – or if he would dare to – use the blade in his hand this time, but without it as a defense, he would be completely outmatched in the potential battle.

He sat cross-legged on the floor and breathed deeply, freeing his all of his magic and preparing himself to use his new power for a second time. He knew that there were consequences for using his Sight, and after his last experience, he began to appreciate Odin's need for an annual sleep all the more.

The room seemed to shift around him, and Loki concentrated on the Tesseract, pouring all of his focus into locating its familiar power. Suddenly, his view changed – it was as if he was in a secure vault in a different dimension entirely. A large automaton resembling the first Destroyer stood sentinel behind the cube. Armed guards with energy weapons were positioned around its pedestal.

As Loki observed the cube's protections, the metal robot shifted, looking near his line of sight but not quite meeting his eyes. The guards jumped to attention at once, forming a wall around the Tesseract with their deadly spears.

Loki withdrew from the pocket dimension, startled, but with a smile splitting his face in anticipation of a challenge. The new Destroyer was clearly more sentient than the old one; it had sensed his gaze even from afar. If he cloaked himself completely, as he did to hide from Heimdall, perhaps he could fool it.

The guards, however…Loki did not recognize any of them, but he had no doubt that they were all as highly trained in combat as he was, and exceptionally dangerous. Each held a spear that Loki guessed fired dark energy.

_Mother is stronger than I thought, to disable all of these protections by herself._

Loki would wait until the guards broke formation around the cube before beginning his mischief. He got up and hurried to his stores, taking out the necessary ingredients for his potion. His Sight had not left him yet, and keeping his eyes open was disorienting, but Loki pushed through his discomfort as he prepared and mixed the ingredients.

He carefully transferred the volatile potion to a glass vial and stashed it in his pocket. He grabbed his new blade, studying it before tucking it in his sleeve.

Loki straightened, gathering his magic. He cloaked himself completely, hiding himself so profoundly that even Heimdall's enchanted eyes would never spot him, and left an illusion of himself sleeping in his bed just in case. He turned his focus to the Tesseract's hiding place again, and was relieved to note that the new Destroyer did not stir as he gazed upon it.

He let the siren song of the cube's energy guide him as he stepped though the void, and he entered the vault unharmed. The guards had relaxed again, but were still standing at attention. The new Destroyer stood lifelessly behind the Tesseract, not reacting to the new presence in the room. Loki would have to contend with it first.

He walked up to it, staring into its empty mechanical eyes, his Sight making the blood pound in his head. Taking a deep breath, Loki reached for his magic, calling upon the dark energy of the void. The Destroyer reacted instantly to the shift in the atmosphere, swiping its gigantic arm at the source of the disturbance.

But Loki was not there.

The guards jumped to attention, panicking, looking around in vain for an intruder that they could not see or hear. Laughing joyfully at the chaos he had sowed, Loki leapt onto the Destroyer's back, holding on for dear life and sending all of the accumulated dark energy into its metal torso. He teleported across the room a second before his magic pushed the very atoms of the Destroyer's body apart.

It fell to the floor in pieces as the guards shouted instructions at one another, surrounding the Tesseract again. A barrier of pure energy covered the cube, shielding it from magical attacks. The shield was seemingly unbreachable, but Loki did not care, for he wanted nothing to do with the damnable blue box of insanity ever again.

He reached into his pocket and grasped the glass vial, throwing it onto the floor with all of his strength. The glass shattered and the potion inside transformed into fumes, filling the room and rendering the guards unconscious.

Loki breathed freely as the smoke furled around him, a wolfish smile on his face. His potion was tailored to disable any _Asgardian_.

As the smoke cleared, he saw a single guard rise, the metal mask over his face feeding him clean air. Loki growled, throwing off his magical cloak, a spear materializing in his hands. Adrenaline ran through his veins, fueling his desire for battle.

The guard leapt at him and Loki met him, laughing manically as they traded blows. The blade of the guard's spear grazed his cheek, drawing blood, and Loki barely ducked the beam of dark energy that nearly took his head off. He pushed the guard back with a volley of strikes, with the rage of battle, caused by his imminent death, coursing through his veins.

His opponent was skilled, one of the best he had ever fought, nearly an equal to Thor. But Loki was in his element, a force of nature, the purest chaos distilled down into an Asgardian-sized form.

He felt unstoppable.

The length of his spear connected with the side of the guard's head, and the man dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Loki looked down and saw that the guard's chest was still moving; he was only unconscious. He longed to finish his kill, to see the splash of red that would satisfy his battle-induced lust for blood. But he held back, reminding himself that he was only here to potentially make one kill, and one kill only.

Loki froze as he heard a slow clap behind him.

"Well done, my son. You have become quite the warrior."

He turned slowly, preparing to face his adoptive father. Odin was standing before him in full armor, Gungnir in one hand. A gauntlet with six glowing gems adorned his other arm. The air hummed with his power, but Loki could not help but notice that the Allfather looked worn and tired – he had been too long without the Odinsleep yet again.

The familiarity of this scene mocked him. Here he was again, in a weapons vault as he had been over a year ago, desperate for answers. Would Odin hold back the full truth yet again? Would he break under the Allfather's words?

Loki did not think so. Even if the past seemed to repeat itself, _he_ had changed. He was exponentially stronger than he had been one Asgardian year ago both mentally and physically. He felt as if his magic had grown from even a few days past – his Sight did not drain him as much as it did the first time he had used it.

If Odin did not kill him here, he thought he might even master it someday.

"But you still cannot resist the urge to make trouble," Odin sighed.

"Well, my name _is_ still Loki," Loki reminded him, for Loki was Loki, always had been and always would be. Loki was chaos distilled, and chaos could not be caged, controlled, or tamed.

Not for long.

"What exactly did you think you would accomplish here? You cannot break that barrier," the Allfather lectured, indicating the Tesseract's shield of pure energy. "I designed it specifically with you in mind."

"I know," Loki replied evenly. "I am exactly where I want to be right now."

"Do you wish to battle me? I will not fight you."

"Good, for you might not win. You wear the gauntlet, as I guessed you would, but you are too old and decrepit to use it properly."

"So _that_ is what you want," the Allfather mused, impressed. "The Tesseract was merely a ruse."

"I want many things, and the gauntlet may or may not be one of them. But first and foremost, I want _answers_," Loki growled.

Odin stared at him, his single eye unreadable, as it had been over a year ago in the vault when Loki had first demanded to know _why_ Odin had taken in the son of his sworn enemy. Loki did not like that look. That eye held too many secrets.

"What delusions fester in your mind now?" Odin replied. "What burning questions would you have me answer?"

Loki ignored Odin's mildly contemptuous tone. "I was going to ask why you left me to Thanos's mercy, but thanks to Sif and mother, I am beginning to piece together your reasoning. But this goes beyond me, does it not, Allfather? You sit on all of these relics of power, like the cube behind me, and for _what_? You could have destroyed the Jotun warriors, could have crushed Thanos. You could have swept the Nine Realms with these artifacts. You have the ambition, but you hold back," Loki began, a challenge in his voice.

"As one of your relics, I am concerned with my own fate and that of my siblings. Because you didn't save me only to pacify Jotunheim, and you do not keep these other relics around to improve the ambiance," Loki sneered, his words flowing like liquid silver.

"You have outsmarted yourself again, boy," Odin snapped, visibly angry for the first time. "You will wish that you never asked at all."

"Is it worse than your last secret?" Loki replied, suddenly afraid. "Is it truly worse?"

Odin regarded him, pity in his one-eyed gaze. "That depends on what you make of it," he said quietly. "You would be happier if I refused to tell you, but the question would forever nag at your mind. I'm giving you a choice, my son. Do you really want to know?"

Loki hesitated. If the knowledge was so terrible, if he could not live with himself after hearing it, he could always…Loki mentally hit himself. _No! I will face the truth like a man, not die like a coward._

"Yes," Loki responded firmly, after a pause.

"I told you that I found you abandoned in a temple," Odin began. "This is true. You were small for a giant's offspring, but that was not the reason why Laufey left you to die."

Loki's heart beat furiously. He wanted to hurt Odin for misleading him, but he forced himself to wait for the terrible new knowledge.

"My men and I visited the temple after the battle. They wanted to pillage, to take the gold and riches within, and I wanted to learn more about these frost giants, these strange creatures, to see what higher power they worshipped. As I walked up to the altar, I heard a cry, and there you were," Odin recalled somewhat fondly, lost in his memory.

"You were hungry and cold, close to death as it was. I thought that it would be kinder to put you out of your misery, rather than leave you to starve slowly. As I was about to bring down my blade, however, I was…prevented."

"…What…" Loki could barely process the Allfather's words. Odin had tried to _kill_ him before deciding to spare him?

"What do you know of Ragnarok, Loki?" Odin asked quietly, studying his son.

"Ragnarok?" Loki asked dumbly, still in shock from Odin's last revelation. He had read of Ragnarok, of course – it was the end of the universe, the Twilight of the Gods. There were supposedly prophecies that foretold it, but few knew their true contents. Images flashed through Loki's mind – spiraling through the Abyss, watching as the universe died and was reborn in a loop endlessly, never progressing to anything better. A ship of nails, a gruesome, twisted sight, rising out of the void…

"Skuld, one of the three Norns, appeared in the temple and ordered me to spare your life. You are one of the…a catalyst for Ragnarok. That is why Laufey left you there."

"No," Loki whispered, sinking to his knees. He stared at his hands, not really seeing them. He had thought that his Jotun form was a terrible revelation, but _this_…he was not a monster because of his blood. He was a monster because he was _fated_ to be. The blood never even mattered. Loki laughed, low and wild. It was as if the universe was playing an extended and rather cruel practical joke on him. _Look at Loki Laufeyson! How long will it take to drive him completely mad?! HahahahahaHAHA_

When he came back to reality, Loki found Odin kneeling beside him, his hand rubbing comforting circles on his back.

"Shhhh. You are not alone. We all play a role, I and Thanos and even Thor. I hung on the Tree for Nine days and nights. Do you know what I saw?"

Loki shook his head numbly, still unable to form words.

"In the final age of this cycle, we are all villains. Dark forces will corrupt our minds, and we will all commit unspeakable acts. The realms will be at constant war, friends will betray friends, and brothers will take up arms against each other," Odin recalled, his voice faltering slightly over his last few words.

"There will be battles more terrible than anything you have ever seen, bloodier than even the battles of old. Thanos will not be alone in his desire to exterminate all that is good, but because of Mimir's sacrifice I at least know how to end him. You asked why I refuse to use my relics for conquest. It is because the more blood that is shed among the Nine Realms, the more quickly Ragnarok occurs. It has been like this in every cycle. This is why I chose to punish you as I did when Thor brought you back. You must know that peace is necessary for life."

"And – and Jotunheim? Uniting the kingdoms? Was that a lie?" Loki managed to say, still reeling from his father's words.

Odin smiled. "Of course not. Two kings, two brothers, each on their own throne. If they grew together, fought together, and remained close, peace would last that much longer. You supposedly lead the Jotuns in Ragnarok – but against whom, I cannot say."

"Is there no way to prevent this? To stop Ragnarok for good?"

Odin frowned, pondering Loki's words. "The Norns are the closest thing that our people have to gods, my son. They are the highest power that we answer to, and they are not…_kind_ like the gods of some of Midgard's pantheons. In the end, they ensure that everything is destroyed so that it can be reborn. That is their role."

"But the decision is in their hands alone. Whatever they choose to weave is done."

Odin looked carefully at him. "Yes. They determine the ultimate fate of the universe. All we can do in the end is live well and accept our fates."

Loki grinned wickedly on the inside, because it was so simple and he _saw_ that now. The Norns decided if the universe lived or died. The Norns were sentient beings, not merely impersonal forces of nature. And thinking, feeling people could always be _tricked._

It was, after all, what Loki was born to do.

Odin was a complacent fool, 'accepting' his fate cycle after cycle without fighting to avert it. Everything remained the same under his guidance – Asgard had barely changed after thousands of years, while Midgard progressed in leaps and bounds. Soon they would be left behind, perhaps even in Loki's lifetime, unless they rose to meet the challenge.

Loki felt the power of the gauntlet on Odin's forearm, and he knew what he had to do. Odin seemed to realize it at well, but he only stroked Loki's hair, whispering "You were always my son."

Loki summoned a spear again, standing and knocking the Allfather unconscious in one graceful stoke. He cringed as he saw blood trickling from a cut on the side of the old man's head – he had not meant to hit him that hard.

Loki removed the gauntlet from Odin's arm, running his hand over the gems to determine their powers. One in particular called to him. Loki removed the glowing blue gem from its slot, its power brushing against his mind, strengthening it.

He chanted a spell to tie the gem's power to his own, and carefully removed Odin's golden eye patch. He slipped the gem into the empty socket, feeling it claim the Allfather's will as its own. Loki cast an illusion over the gem and replaced the eye patch. He also disguised the gem's missing slot on the gauntlet, in case anyone thought to look.

"Wake up, father," Loki commanded, and Odin sat up obediently, his will tied to Loki's.

"You should act as you usually do, so that we do not make anyone suspicious. Thor is getting smarter these days," Loki sighed.

"He certainly is, surprisingly enough," Odin responded, smiling proudly. Loki almost felt as if this was too easy – he knew that his father would someday break his control, but for now, he was weakened from a prolonged period without the Odinsleep. Loki only hoped that he had time enough to accomplish his goals.

"I'm sorry, father. But it must be this way, at least for now."

He healed the Allfather's wound and helped him stand. "I may need your help in reassembling the Destroyer, and turning off my Sight," Loki muttered sheepishly.

_Thor will kill me when he discovers what I've done, _Loki thought sadly, preparing to leave the hidden dimension with his father.

ooooo

_a/n_: *cackles evilly*…That is all. One more chapter to go!

Because I Can and Will: He definitely has it back! :) When he was speaking with Hawkeye, he didn't really specify that his magic was returned, but it was. He just needed a bit of a break after everything. Thanks for reviewing!

polka dot: Not a Loki/Sif shipper eh? That's ok, there won't be too much romance in this fic. Thanks for reviewing!

Guest: I'm glad you like Clint's and Loki's interaction! I agree that the Loki/Sif thing was sudden on my part, I kinda assumed when writing that they always had some subconscious attraction/feelings. I feel you, though. They're never gonna be a couple in the movies, I'm guessing. Hmmm…more SHIELD and Thanos? Maybe in a sequel! Thanks for reviewing!

Maia2: Yeah, I hope Odin is more understandable after this chapter. He really is the ultimate trickster, Loki has some big shoes to fill. I'm glad you liked that Clint isn't ready to forgive yet, it would be too soon if he did. Sooo glad you liked the kiss! He did deserve to be punched, the cheeky little bastard ;) Thanks for reviewing!

PH_FIRE: I'm typing your name differently because for some reason always cuts it off whenever I respond to your review…weird. Thanks so much, you made my day! Hope you're safe! I'm glad you liked the Loki/Sif. Yes, they do not trust each other completely, but they grew up together, so they have good memories/feelings as well as bad. Thanks for reviewing!


	18. XVIII

CHAPTER XVIII

"_Brother, what have you __**done**__?" _

_Odin lay cold and lifeless in front of his eyes, finished from his futile struggle against Loki's magic and the power of the mind gem. Loki looked on in horror; he had never intended to kill the Allfather, but he had ordered him to delay the Odinsleep longer and longer so that he could maintain his control…_

"_What…" Loki could not find any silver words. His incoherence only seemed to transform Thor's horror into a burning rage._

"_You __**murdered**__ him! Were your crimes against Barton not enough? Were you not satisfied until our own father suffered his fate, and worse?!"_

_Loki's panic seemed to steal the very air from his lungs. He knew that the Allfather was weakened from his control, but he had never anticipated the struggle ending this way. Even as a grown man, Loki could never picture Odin dying like everyone else. His desperate defense came out as a jumbled plea._

"_Thor! I never meant for this to happen! Let me explain, please, I beg of you…my brother, my __**king**__."_

_Thor hit him hard across the face, the sheer force of his blow drawing blood. Loki stumbled back and Thor caught him, wrapping his fingers around his younger brother's neck and lifting him bodily off of the floor. Loki's legs dangled as Thor squeezed, the pressure on his neck and Thor's biting words making his head pound._

"_He __**warned**__ me that you would betray us! I refused to listen, but blood always tells, does it not, __**Laufeyson**__? You Jotun __**scum**__!"_

_Thor shook Loki for emphasis, throwing him back on the floor and pinning him quickly with Mjolnir. The enchanted hammer's weight pressed down on his unarmored chest, and Loki heard a crack that could only be one of his ribs. Thor knelt down and wrenched Loki's head up, speaking softly into his ear._

"_You will meet your fate in front of all of Asgard. I will do what __**my**__ father should have done over a thousand years ago," Thor whispered, his voice rough and cruel._

"_It was an accident," Loki muttered, his voice shaking. "Brother, please believe me."_

_Thor laughed wildly and grinned, and in that moment Loki thought that he resembled Thanos more than himself. _

"_No, Loki."_

_ooo_

_He was forced to kneel in front of the throne, his icy heritage revealed for all to see and his silver words stopped forever by a leather cord. Through his blurred gaze, Loki looked up at Frigga, silently pleading for mercy._

_She turned away._

"_For this crime, you are no longer my brother, and therefore I sentence you to a traitor's rightful fate…"_

_The seething crowd went wild. They would have a show at last._

_ooo_

_Loki stumbled as he was dragged to the chopping block, shouts and taunts from all sides ringing in his ears. Commoners lunged at him, spitting and screaming, and a warrior managed to break past the guards, his blade drawing a line of dark Jotun blood from Loki's ear to his chin. _

"_Monster!" The warrior shouted as he was pushed back._

_As he neared the place of execution, Loki saw Thor standing regally in front of the steps, with Sif, the Warriors Three, and the Avengers at his side. Their eyes were all cold, so cold, and his hawk's expression was gleeful. The Man of Iron spat as Loki was forced to kneel, head down, in front of the block, the executioner's blade hovering above his neck._

"_Wait! Thor, I have a request," Barton's voice rang out above the noise of the crowd._

"_I will grant it if it pleases me," Thor replied, his wrathful gaze never leaving his former brother's face._

_Barton laughed. "I promised once to shoot out his eyes. It's not like he'll need them in a second anyway, right?"_

_Thor grinned slowly, the same sadistic grin he had given Laufey's troops not long ago before slaughtering them by the hundreds. _

"_Granted."_

_Barton selected his first arrow slowly and deliberately, his gaze focused on his former torturer's face as he strung his bow – _

Loki forced himself awake, looking around in a panic before realizing that he was safe in his chambers, having slumped over his desk in sleep while reading. He held his head in his hands, breathing deeply, trying to push the residual panic out of his mind.

_Only a nightmare, _he reassured himself. _Thor would never do that. Even __**Baton **__would hesitate. My mind is playing tricks on me again._

But a spiteful little voice in the back of his head questioned his analysis and denied him any comfort. _Is it your mind that is tormenting you, or your own pitiful conscience?_

Loki growled, rising from his chair and pacing around the room. He felt little guilt over what he had done to Odin; although he had learned from Thanos what it felt like to have his mind taken from him for another's benefit, his control over the Allfather was a _necessity_, not a form of payback.

Odin was content to sit back and guard his relics as Thanos prepared to purge the Nine Realms; he was so afraid of bloodshed and of quickening Ragnarok that his caution blinded him. If Ragnarok was inevitable anyway, at least for now, then Loki knew that letting Thanos languish in the Void was merely depending on borrowed time.

Loki sought a more permanent solution to the universe's dilemma, and for that, he needed Odin and his outdated philosophy out of the way. He was content to rule by proxy until his designs were complete, and he had already used his control over Odin to claim the gauntlet and learn more of its secrets for himself.

If he was to destroy Thanos, it would benefit him to know the workings of his most prized weapon. Loki's gaze travelled back to his desk, where the gauntlet was resting alongside his open tome. He reached for it, picking it up reverently and sending it back to the tiny dimensional pocket where he kept many of his valuables. It was safe for now, but there was still the matter of the Allfather to contend with.

His nightmare had unsettled him more than he was willing to admit. Odin was not as strong as he used to be, and what if Loki's control _did_ kill him? Was the dream a warning of events that might come to pass?

_I must strengthen my control over Father somehow, so that I do not have to deny him the Odinsleep._

Loki sighed, feeling a headache beginning in his temples. If Odin was allowed to sleep now, when he awoke he would be free again, and Loki's mischief would be over, perhaps for good. Loki still did not understand why the Allfather had allowed him to prevail in the Weapons Vault, even after Odin had discerned his true intentions.

When Loki questioned him afterwards, the old man had seemed uncertain about it himself. Perhaps he was tired of trying, weary from seeing the end of the universe cycle after cycle. Still, Loki was not willing to dismiss the possibility that this was all another of his adoptive father's elaborate schemes.

Thor's prior warning came to his mind unbidden. _You should know that if you betray me, I will __**kill**__ you._

If Thor somehow discovered what he had done, would he truly be able to carry out his threat? Loki knew that the Thor of his nightmare was merely a reflection of the darkest corners of his mind and heart, but how would the _real_ Thor react?

Loki needed to find out. He had to disprove his nightmare somehow, and to silence the creeping doubts that were slowly unmaking him.

ooooo

Loki crept to Thor's rooms, his magical cloak concealing him from the notice of all those that he passed. He did not plan to tell Thor the truth of his recent misdeeds, but he needed reassurance more than anything else – he felt like a child again, running to his older brother for comfort after a nightmare. He needed to somehow be sure that his brother would never forsake him.

Thor was strong enough to withstand Loki's hatred, but Loki did not think that he could survive Thor's.

As he turned in front of Thor's rooms, movement from outside of the door made him stop short, as still as the pillars that lined the hall.

Sif and Thor were standing so close to one another that they almost touched, and Sif leaned up slowly, intimately whispering something into his ear. Thor grinned widely and hugged her, his gaze crossing Loki's path, though he could not see him.

Loki took one step back, then a second, his mind still processing what he saw. Thor's gaze, still fixed in his direction, sharpened for a moment, and a hint of recognition appeared in his eyes.

"Brother?"

Loki turned and ran, calling on his magic to teleport him somewhere, anywhere. The world shifted around him, and when his head cleared Loki found himself in the one place that he would have been happy to avoid for the rest of his days.

Bats stirred at his arrival, flapping back to their hiding places in the cave walls. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through the rock's narrow entrance, and as Loki turned, he saw Yggdrasil still pulsing in the midst of it all, unchanged from his last visit.

Loki sank to his knees and screamed in frustration, his cry echoing forlornly back at him. _She loves him, and she always has. I've known it for centuries, but I still allowed myself to be taken in._

He had even shown her his Jotun form…was that what had driven her back to his brother?

Loki looked down at his hands, recalling the soothing chill of the Casket and the desolate mountains of Jotunheim. The blue crept along his skin once more, his true heritage appearing at his command. Blue like his Hawk's eyes had been when Loki had forced him to kill his dearest friends, Blue as his world had been when Thanos had torn his mind apart, and as Blue as Thor's eyes had been in his dream, filled with loathing for his imposter of a brother.

_Monster._

That was the beginning and the end of it, of _him_.

_The Jotuns can only destroy, _Loki reminded himself, recalling the stories from his childhood. The monsters had hungry red eyes that gleamed in the darkness, arms strong enough to tear an Asgardian in two, and an icy touch that burned off entire limbs.

Loki highly doubted that he could tear an Asgardian in half, but could his touch freeze someone alive? He turned and pressed his hands against the wall of the cave on an impulse, willing his touch to _burn_. Ice formed from his hands outwards along the wall almost immediately, and the stone cracked from the extreme cold.

Loki watched, fascinated, his despair slowly receding as his curiosity rose. _Sif was not burned when she touched my skin. It must only burn if I will it to._

His thoughts turned back to their encounter a few days past. _Thor is dear to me,_ she had said. _But you are dear to me as well._ If it had been any other maiden saying those words, Loki would have brushed them off as flattery and insincerity. But while Sif could recognize dishonesty in others, she was as incapable of convincingly lying as Thor himself. And she certainly would not have spared his feelings if she was truly disgusted by his Jotun form.

Loki removed his hands from the wall of the cave, which was now almost entirely covered by ice. With his curiosity piqued, he wondered what else his Jotun form could do. He had seen warriors form crude blades of ice over their arms, and Laufey had been capable of creating more refined and elegant daggers to fight with. Was the ability truly magical, or merely a natural part of being Jotun? Loki thought that he had tried this once before, before his sentencing, but his memories of that time were, thankfully, blurred.

He concentrated, picturing a sword forming in his hand. He felt a chill creeping over his lower arm and hand, and as he looked down at his work, he saw that his hand was encased in a featureless block of ice. Magic thrummed in his blood like it sometimes did after a spell, but this magic felt _different_ somehow, as if a veil had been lifted, as if it was more fully _his._ It called to him.

But apparently making weapons out of ice required artistry and practice. Loki frowned, breaking the ice off of his arm and trying to form a smaller, more basic dagger. After about twenty more tries, his ice block was no better off than his first. Loki slumped against the wall, exhausted from the new magic. He had never realized that Jotun warriors bothered to master any _skills._

Loki felt his magical cloak dissipate around him; he had used too much magic in forming his ice too fast. He would have to wait here and recover before heading back out, because he could not risk being seen before he resumed an Asgardian form.

Footsteps sounded near the entrance of the cave, and Loki's heart jumped in fear.

"Brother?"

Loki gaped in surprise and moved further into the shadows.

"Loki? Are you in here? I've been searching for you," Thor called, his tone open and concerned.

Loki ducked behind a ledge of rock as Thor stepped inside, his heart pounding in his ears. If Thor saw him now…Loki was unsure that his reaction would turn out as well as Sif's.

_I'll hunt down the monsters and slay them all! Just as you did, father!_

Loki heard Thor's sharp intake of breath and knew that he saw the ice lining the walls. It was only a matter of time…

"Brother, I know that you're here now. Please come out, I want to speak with you."

Loki took a deep breath and clenched his fists. There was no sense in pretending that he was not here now.

"I'd rather not, Thor. How did you even find me? How did you even see me back in…" Loki's voice trailed off, thick with emotion at the memory of Sif and his brother embracing.

Thor chuckled, his laughter echoing along the walls. "I know you better than you think," he replied, and Loki heard his footsteps sound further into the cave. "We used to play near here, when we were younger. Do you remember? I thought that you might end up here. And I _didn't_ see you. I felt an…an absence where something _should _have been. Looking back with what I know now, I guessed that you've always tended to sneak around that way. Now I know how you've done it all these years."

Loki gaped in surprise – Thor could sense his intricate spell? And find him here after only a few minutes? He had always regarded Thor as a well-meaning but lumbering oaf, but it seemed that he had underestimated his brother once again.

"Why did you run, brother?" Thor continued, and Loki could practically feel him peering into the shadows where he was concealed. "Why are you hiding? Did I do something wrong?"

Loki growled, Thor's naiveté stirring his anger. He was _always_ well-meaning, because everyone always saved the best for him. He knew no other way to think, because he had always received only praise.

"Why do you think? Use that newfound wit of yours," Loki called, his anger and fear causing his eyes to water.

"If it's because of what you saw of Sif and me – it is not what you think. I swear to you that we are only the closest of friends, and nothing more," Thor implored.

Loki laughed dismissively. "What would your precious mortal quim say if she saw the same thing? Would you call her delusional as well? You have a very open manner with your 'friends,' brother."

"We _are_ friends, and nothing more. You mistake what you saw as something else. Come out and face me like a man," Thor snapped, becoming defensive at Loki's crude reference to Jane. He had not forgotten his brother's old threat on the Bifrost over a year ago.

Loki snapped, his anger and panic overwhelming him. "Don't patronize me! _I know that she loves you!_"

Thor paused, considering his next words. He knew that there was some truth to Loki's accusations – there always was – but as usual, he allowed his pessimistic outlook to twist reality into something far darker and bleaker than it actually was.

"Perhaps to an extent, brother," Thor allowed, "but she knows you better than almost anyone else. Who followed you into the library all of those days when the rest of us went on adventures outside? Who anticipated your every trick and prank? Who travelled with me to speak with Mimir on your behalf, even when I preferred to go alone? She has given you far more regard all this time than she has me," Thor continued, trying to calm Loki's anger.

Loki listened from the shadows, trying to determine the truth of his brother's words. He _knew_ that Sif was in love with Thor, but when he looked back, he realized that she had not spent nearly as much time pursuing his older brother as she had spent affectionately tormenting _him_. But what did it mean? How could she love both the light and the dark at once?

"Please, don't hold it against her. Or me," Thor added, "for I only wish you well. Now will you stop sulking and come out?"

"I…I can't. Not yet," Loki replied, trying to steady his voice.

"Why not?" Thor snapped impatiently. "What's wrong with you?"

"Look around you, you fool!" Loki shouted, the sharp echo of his voice ringing in their ears. "I do not resemble your brother at this moment, but your most hated enemy."

"Oh," Thor responded, dumbfounded. "I thought…I thought you would have changed back by now. Why haven't you? I mean…are you unwell?"

"Of course not," Loki snapped, trying the cover the shame in his voice. "I merely used too much Jotun magic at once. I will change back in time."

"Do you think that I…" Thor began hesitantly, before he deliberately made his tone more challenging. "Are you afraid to come out and face me? I never thought that you were such a coward. Perhaps I should have suspected, given how weak you've proved yourself of late," Thor called, sneering.

"_Shut up!" _Loki screamed from the shadows.

"But perhaps I am being too harsh - at least you know your rightful place, little brother. Hidden in the shadow of my greatness, where you belong."

A form lunged at him from the darkness, and Thor quickly dodged, having anticipated the strike. Loki stumbled, but managed to keep his balance after his failed attack, and he slowly turned to face Thor, as if he was steeling himself to look his death in the face.

"You'll hunt down the monsters and slay them all," he whispered, more to himself than to Thor.

Thor stared at his brother – born Loki Laufeyson, and made into Loki Odinson through their father's well-meaning lies and magic. He was a robin's egg blue, and he had the same unsettling crimson eyes that all Jotuns shared, strange patterns on his forehead, and clawed hands…but overall, the change was underwhelming. If Thor were to see him like this randomly, without any preparation, he would still have recognized Loki as his brother.

"I see no monster," Thor responded quietly, but with conviction. "I see my brother. Was that so hard?"

Loki made a sound like a strangled sob and Thor quickly pulled him into a hug before he could move away, wondering in the back of his mind if Loki's skin would burn him.

But Loki's face was buried in Thor's neck and shoulder, and it did not burn. His skin still felt cold against Thor's own, but there was no pain, no agonizing injury like the one that Volstagg had received in Jotunheim.

"Was that so hard?" Thor repeated, guilt and another unnamed emotion making his voice shake – how much had his old careless words damaged his brother when he had discovered the truth? Did he truly believe that Thor would _ever_ be able to harm him like all of those other anonymous Jotuns?

Had he been right to doubt their brotherhood?

"You still look yourself, only more…icy. And blue," Thor continued, fumbling for words to fill the silence, to soothe Loki's quiet fears.

Loki laughed as if he remembered something, pulling away slowly. "You are as articulate as ever, brother," he muttered, discretely wiping his eyes. "But I doubt that many in Asgard would share your enlightened opinion."

"You do not have to tell the people if you do not wish to. But if you choose to, someday when the time is right, they will treat you as my brother, as they always have."

"And who will make them, Odinson? _You_?"

"If I must," Thor replied determinedly. "We were raised together. Brotherhood is more than just blood."

Loki looked away, unease crossing his face. He still remembered his nightmare, and while he knew that it was a fiction that his mind had created, Thor had easily rejected their bond once he had lost faith in Loki – something that Loki was not sure could be done in full with a natural brother.

Loki had disowned Thor as his brother, and had tried to kill him, based largely on the lack of shared blood to hold him back. While he knew that Thor was far more forgiving than he was, even the Thunderer's love was not infinite. Someday, Loki knew, he would go too far, and some similar version of his dream would come to pass.

"Will Asgard see it that way?" Loki challenged after a pause. "Will _you_, if I betray you once again, whatever my reasons may be? You are the golden son," he said, indicating Thor, "and I am the monster. Our blood is different. Our fates shall also be different, as a consequence."

"Do they have to be?" Thor asked sadly, meeting Loki's blood-red eyes; they were so different than before, yet much the same.

Loki laughed bitterly. "No matter what actions we take, I have a feeling that things will end that way. I see no way to overcome our blood, to change our fates."

Thor paused then smiled widely, a realization dawning like the morning sun.

"I do, brother. Wait here until I return."

ooooo

"What in the Nine are you doing with those?" Loki snapped, following Thor hesitantly out of the cave, making sure that there were no passersby to see his Jotun form. He followed Thor to the front of the forest where they used to play as boys centuries ago.

Thor had disappeared for a quarter of an hour, and when he had returned, he was carrying a spade, a spear, and his ever-present hammer.

"You know my intentions," Thor responded evenly, setting Mjolnir down in the grass and handing Loki the ornate spear that he had received for one of his name days. "Hold this. Carve whatever runes are necessary into the handle for the ritual."

As Loki looked on, Thor began to cut a patch of turf with the spade, his hands surprisingly steady for one who had never labored.

"You truly mean to go through with this?" Loki asked, his voice thick with emotion. "It is an oath made before the Norns; it cannot be taken back."

"You are my brother," Thor responded firmly, continuing his work. "If you swear with me, nobody will ever be able to deny that."

Loki sat wordlessly and took out a blade, whispering a spell to sharpen it enough to cut Thor's dwarf-forged spear. He drew the runes slowly and carefully, losing himself in the ancient art. After a time, he was aware that Thor had finished his task and had moved to sit beside him. The Thunderer watched the Trickster's precise movements, admiration rather than the usual boredom on his face.

"Could you teach me?" He asked quietly, marveling at the way the runes looked carved by Loki's hand, elegant and unified for a single purpose.

Loki smiled slightly, his expression affectionate instead of mocking. "If you truly wish to learn, I will teach you."

"I never really cared to understand magic," Thor mused. "But it is an important tool, is it not, like the spade over there or even Mjolnir. It can be used to destroy or to build, like Odin's magic…or Mimir's."

Loki stayed silent and let Thor continue, secretly shocked but also pleased at what he was hearing.

"It has beauty as well, though not a beauty that many Aesir acknowledge. I will never be a renowned sorcerer like you, Loki. But perhaps…perhaps I can learn something of use."

Loki smiled, meeting Thor's eyes. "It is ready."

They stood and walked over to the strip of turf that Thor had cut. He had left both ends attached to the ground, and he picked up the center of it carefully, the height of it enough for a full-grown man to walk under. Loki stuck the point of the spear into the dirt, positioning the base of the handle so that it held up the arch. Thor carefully let it go and stepped out from under it, clods of dirt raining down on them.

After a moment, however, the arch still held, and Thor looked at Loki and nodded. He walked under the turf on one side of the spear, and Loki repeated his action on the other side. Loki removed a blade from his sleeve and handed it to Thor, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Thor cut a vein on his palm and let the blood drip into the exposed dirt beneath the archway. He handed the bloody blade back to his brother, and Loki slowly drew a line over his blue palm, dark Jotun blood flowing from his wound and mingling with Thor's red blood in the dirt. Both brothers paused to look at their work for a moment before Loki knelt, mixing the soil and the blood together with his hands. Thor knelt alongside him and helped.

"Now we must swear, brother," Thor said quietly. "Are you ready?"

Loki took a deep breath and prepared himself. There would be no going back on an oath like this – Thor would be as much his brother as if they were born from the same mother, perhaps even more so. Even the Norns would be unable to deny it. And he _himself_ would no longer be able to deny it.

And Thor would be unable to deny it, if he ever discovered Loki's betrayal.

"I'm ready. You may go first."

"I call upon the Norns to witness my oath," Thor called to the heavens, "Urd, Verandi, and Skuld, hear me. I swear that Loki will always be my brother in blood and in oath. I swear that I will never drink unless a cup is also offered to him. I swear that I will fight alongside him in life, and avenge his death," Thor met Loki's eyes and Loki grinned back.

"I swear that all glory will be ours to share."

Thor's last words made Loki's heart leap in hope. The Thunderer finished his oaths and looked expectantly over at his brother. "Your turn."

"I call upon the Norns to witness my oath," Loki repeated, reciting the ritualistic first words of the ceremony. "Urd, Verandi, and Skuld, hear me. I swear that Thor Odinson will forever be my brother in blood and in oath. I swear that I will aid him against his enemies, should he require my help. I swear that I will fight alongside him in life, and avenge his death."

Loki paused and looked at his future blood-brother before swearing his final oath. Thor's eyes were so blue, so naïve, so trusting and loving. Loki wanted to say _I swear that I will never crush your hopes_, but he knew that such an oath would be a lie.

"I swear that I will help him become the finest king that Asgard could ever hope for."

Thor grinned at him, his eyes red and wet. "It is done, blood-brother."

He stood and removed the spear from the ground, settling the cut turf back down, burying their mingled Aesir and Jotun blood in the earth.

Thor pulled Loki to his feet and enveloped him in a crushing hug. Loki allowed his Asgardian disguise to cover his Jotun heritage again, for it no longer mattered. Thor's blood was his, and his blood was Thor's. They were Aesir and Jotun both, the ancient magic of the ritual having washed away all pretensions.

_We share a common fate now, brother, _Loki mused. _Are you ready for what the Norns have in store for us? And are you prepared for the storm of my chaos?_

ooooo

He felt his servant's mind find his across time and space, past countless stars and through the darkness of the Void.

He opened his mind's eye and followed the Other's presence back to their future battlefield. His servant bowed to him in his new skin, his smile no longer bloody but still full of dark promise.

"I was successful, my lord. The human wretches suspect nothing."

Thanos smiled back at the dark-skinned man with one eye, the puppet forced to share an enemy's skin. The scars on his face indicated a struggle, as if he had lost his eye in a perilous battle. Thanos appreciated the bloodlust and tenacity of the humans; weak and easy to kill as they were, they marched joyfully into danger and embraced Her ultimate gift.

And Thanos could not wait to send Her many new willing worshippers.

THE END

_a/n_: Thanks so much to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed my story! I had a ton of fun writing this! I may write a sequel that features Thor, the Avengers, Thanos, and of course Loki, picking up from where this left off. If this sounds interesting, please comment and let me know. I am working on another story right now for Star Trek, so I probably won't start the sequel to Hunted right away, however.

The blood brother ritual at the end was modeled after a Viking ceremony in Gisli Sursson's Saga where four people took the oath. I liked this version more than having Thor and Loki simply cut their arms and tie them together, though I am sure what I wrote is not historically accurate.

Because I Can and Will: Thanks so much!

Maia2: Yes, Loki does not like being told what to do, by Odin or the fates or anyone else. He does, and will continue to do, whatever he wants ;)

Dazja: I hope that this chapter provided even more feels!

Polka dot: Maybe he did, or maybe Loki is in over his head again. We'll see! ;)

Vergil is sexy: Thanks so much! Reviews like this inspire me to keep writing! English was one of my majors, yes. ;) Regarding the Loki Sif kiss, I agree that it was kind of sudden, as a few other people have mentioned. I was not planning on it originally but wrote it in on an impulse. I might change that if I repost this somewhere else, since taking it out wouldn't detract from the main point of the scene. Thanks for mentioning that! I also feel a lot of sympathy for Loki (the movie script writers do as well, I think) but he was ultimately responsible for all of his actions. I'm glad you liked that balance.

Andrea: Thanks, sorry for the wait!


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